


Broken Beyond Repair

by throwaway11589



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Catra (She-Ra) Needs a Hug, Catra is Bad at Feelings (She-Ra), Childhood Friends, Childhood Trauma, Eventual Romance, F/F, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Scorpia (She-Ra) is a Good Friend, Slow Burn, angst x2, idiots to lovers, like seriously
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:07:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 46,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28036677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/throwaway11589/pseuds/throwaway11589
Summary: As orphans, Catra and Adora had been inseparable. Pushed together by tragedy, the pair formed an unbreakable bond... until a woman came one day and whisked Adora away.Adora was lucky that Mara rescued her from Horde Orphanage. A new life, a new start. With years of work, she'd grown brave enough to build a new future within the city that had represented so much pain. Still, even eight years later, she wondered after the long-lost friend that she left crying and alone on the orphanage steps. God knew Adora wanted to find her again.Catra knew what she was. Failure, disaster, embarrassment, wasted effort. If enough people drilled it into you with words or actions, you started to realise that the common element was you. An alcoholic barely able to hold a job, coasting on the dwindling generosity of her colleague, Catra had long ago learned to hate herself and just about everyone else. However, there was an extra special bit of seething hatred locked away for the backstabbing blonde-haired bitch whose betrayal had hurt most of all. God save Adora if Catra ever found her again.
Relationships: Adora & Bow & Glimmer (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Background Bow/Glimmer - Relationship, Catra & Entrapta & Scorpia (She-Ra), Catra & Entrapta (She-Ra), Catra & Scorpia (She-Ra), background scorpia/perfuma
Comments: 26
Kudos: 154





	1. Different People

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve never written She-Ra fic before (or anything of this tone/genre really) but I couldn’t help myself. After reading so much excellent Catradora stuff, I wanted to take a shot at it. 
> 
> In this AU, Catra and Adora spent some of their childhood growing up as orphans. Adora gets adopted into a loving home, Catra doesn’t. You know how it goes from there, really. Angst, heartbreak, friendship, love, and hopefully something worth reading.

Target fucking sucked.

It wasn’t Catra’s most revolutionary realisation but it was an accurate one. When she was a kid, she thought people that worked there must have loved it. The dim memories of normality that she could recall had painted Target as something nice and normal. Boy, had she been wrong.

Maybe that was understandable. Weaver hadn’t taken the kids at the orphanage to Target. The bitch hadn’t taken them anywhere except whatever ring of hell took her fancy that day. The foster families hadn’t been much better. Catra was pretty sure family number three took her to Target a few times. That must have been where the memory was from. If it was family three then anything outside of that abusive pit they called a home would look good by comparison.

A little piece of her thought she might actually enjoy working here. Not that there was much choice anyway. She needed to keep her car on the road, needed to keep up her rent, needed to keep her blood-alcohol level high enough to distract her from it all. Target had been one of the few places that would take her. No self-respecting institution would hire a crude, unpleasant, alcoholic twenty year old with more entries on her criminal record than she had actual qualifications; one for the former, none for the latter.

Those delusions of enjoying it died quickly. Target wasn’t happy, it was miserable. Eight hour shifts, repeated day after day, month after month. At least today might well be her last there.

Catra sat, arms folded, in the chair opposite her boss’ desk for the dozenth time. The dingy little office was probably her least favourite place here, which was really saying something. Her boss, a thirty-something year old man with a retreating hairline, was going through the most recent complaint lodged against her. This _had_ to be the final straw.

“Miss Maullar..." Her boss sighed, as if the words were painful for him. He mispronounced her name, as usual, dragging out the double-l without the softer, correct Spanish pronunciation. “These incidents have gotten out of hand. I can forgive one transgression but this is the dozenth one since joining us, not to mention your third issue this month.”

_ That you know about.  _ Catra had scared one of her customers enough that they’d never dare come and make a complaint.

Catra shrugged, leaning back in the creaking plastic chair. “Tell the customers. If I have one more stuffy fifty year old woman chew me out for not having their brand of hair product in stock then I’m going to—”

“Miss Maullar," her boss tried again, “this company requires absolute professionalism from its staff. I know customers can be unpleasant but—”

“You sit in this office all day," she growled. "How can you know how the customers are?"

Her boss’ eyes went wide. “Excuse me? I’ll have you know I spent years working the floor!’” The man paused, taking a deep breath. “Forgive me, I shouldn’t have gotten angry.”

Catra grinned to herself, finding some small victory in breaking the man’s demeanor. “Not so easy, is it?”

Her boss ignored the comment, flipping through a file marked with her name. Formal complaints were written up and shoved in it almost every week at this rate.  She watched him skim through, doing a poor job of hiding what he was thinking.

_ God, please fire me.  _ She couldn’t handle another day here. Scorpia would be furious with her, or perhaps just heartbroken. Catra wasn’t sure Scorpia understood how to be angry. It would be worth it though. The thought of marching out those doors, dumping her uniform on the ground, spitting at her boss’ feet, and screaming expletives at whatever customer got in her way was too perfect.

“I can’t understand your behaviour," her boss finally said. “You’re clearly an intelligent young woman but I simply can’t imagine why you behave this way. Did your parents raise you to be this disrespectful?”

Catra’s heart skipped. Before she knew it, her nails were digging into her skin. Her jaw clenched and something primal and uncontrollable seized her tongue.  “I’d ask them if I knew them.”

Her boss took a moment to process what she’d said. The second he did, his face dropped. The lifeless, almost clinical attitude he’d had thus far was replaced with something so much worse: pity.

“I am so sorry, Miss Maullar.” The man set the complaint file aside, clearly trying to salvage himself. As if Catra cared at this point. “That was very inappropriate of me and I am deeply sorry.”

Catra rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, don’t sweat it. It takes a lot more than you to offend me.”

The man picked up the file again, looked at it with distaste for a moment, and then slid it into the drawer. “Well, just try to be more respectful to customers, please. I don’t think I enjoy this any more than you do.”

_ Oh come on!  _ She was sure this would be the last straw. She threw her head back, barely containing a frustrated groan. She doubted her boss was smart enough to figure out what it meant.

“I know it can be hard.” He was clueless. “But I’m sure you can manage it. Okay?” Her boss stood up and showed her the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, bright and early," he said through a forced smile. “And once again, I am deeply sorry for my—”

“It’s fine.” The words grated as she forced them out. “Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Catra marched out of the office without looking back. 

She was so sure this would be it too. How could she call a customer an insufferable bitch and still keep her job? She knew why, of course. It had all been fine until her boss put his foot in her mouth. If there was one thing she hated more than shit-for-brain customers, empty platitudes, or another damn reprimanding, it was pity. She was not a little kid to be fawned over because her parents had abandoned her. Catra didn’t even care. They’d walked before she had the chance to know them, so why should she be broken up about it? It was everyone else that had the problem. They were the ones that changed their tune and treated her differently, like she was weak or helpless because of something that happened a decade and a half ago.

Down the stairs and out the door, Catra cursed all the way. She was so done with this place. She was so done with the people. She was so done with it all.

“Hey, wildcat!” A familiar voice sounded across the shop floor. Scorpia hurried over, worried. “How’d it go? Are you okay?”

Scorpia was, technically speaking, her direct superior. The woman was only a few years older than Catra but seemed so much more of an adult. Tall and strong, the woman was insufferably nice. Way too nice for someone that had worked at Target for so many years, in Catra’s opinion. 

Scorpia was one of the few people she might call a friend in this world. Well, Perfuma and Entrapta too, but they were Scorpia’s friends first. Friends of circumstance for Catra more than anything else. It hadn't been a friendship forged by choice either. Scorpia had all but dragged Catra to move in to her spare bedroom after finding out her new employee had been sleeping in her car for the first two weeks. Catra wasn't going to complain. She's survived almost a month between being kicked out of Lonnie's and being forced into Scorpia's home. Still, even Catra knew better than to turn her nose up at Scorpia for that. Not imemdiately anyway. Eventually she'd drive the woman away, just like everyone else.

“It went dreadfully, thanks," Catra muttered.

Scorpia gasped, hand covering her mouth. “Wait, did he fire you?”

“No, I kept my job. So like I said, it went dreadfully.”

Scorpia gasped again, a happy one this time, and wrapped Catra in a suffocating hug, lifting her a few inches off the ground. “That’s great! You had me so worried for a second there. I thought I was going to have to march into his office and say, ‘look here, Derek! You give Catra her job back this instant or I’ll show you what benching two hundred pounds can let you do to a person’s face.’”

Catra had to laugh at that. Scorpia was insufferably positive but she still had her moments. Not for a second did Catra believe Scorpia would actually beat up their boss. Still, it was an amusing thought. No one understood Catra, not really, but Scorpia could at least entertain her. Sometimes.

After releasing Catra from her uncannily muscly arms, Scorpia began leading them to the exit. “Come on, shift’s over and I am starving. Perfuma and I have date night and I've been daydreaming about it for weeks."

Through the doors and across the parking lot, Catra let Scorpia ramble about the date plans without offering any comment. Ever since Scorpia and Perfuma started dating a few months ago, she had been even happier than ever. At least it got Scorpia out of Catra’s hair on the regular now. The quiet nights when Scorpia was out were one of the few vaguely positive things about her life. 

She fished her keys out of her pockets and slid into the driver’s seat. Scorpia kept droning on even though Catra had tuned her out halfway across the parking lot.  With a bitter look at Target through the side window, Catra hit the engine and took them away.   
  
_Well_ , she thought to herself as Scorpia continued to gush about her date, _at least someone's happy with their life._  


* * *

People probably thought Adora was an idiot.

Okay, not literally an idiot. Adora had enough of a reputation around campus for most people to know that she wasn't stupid. Grinning like an idiot at her phone under a tree just outside of campus was likely to turn a few heads though.

The e-mail notifications had popped up at almost the same time. One from Professor Spella, her Medieval History lecturer, and another from Coach Micah. 

Spella’s was nothing but praise for her most recent assignment. Adora’s essay on the splintering of the Carolingian Empire had been, in her lecturer’s words, ‘visionary’ and the email continued on in glowing fashion. It would look awfully boring to anyone else, but not to Adora. She’d always loved history, with its kings and wars, its swords and princesses, for as long as she could remember.

The second email from Coach Micah was even better. Her performance so far this semester had been her best yet. There were a few big games to come but the Bright Moon team was on top form and hopes were high that they’d pull out a victory over every one. It was the last sentence of Micah’s email that had sent her into a frenzy.  _ I’ll be amazed if we don’t have a Captain Grayskull sometime soon.  _

She wanted to cheer. Adora threw her hands in the air and nearly did, if not for the confused looks of other students walking by.

Instead she tried to contain herself as she waited for Bow and Glimmer. The sun was teasing the horizon as it set, and the sky was clear for miles around. Adora was sat cross-legged on the grass, leaning against a tree outside the main entrance to Bright Moon University. Glimmer and Bow were running a bit late but, honestly, she didn’t care. She could stay here forever. It was easy to phase out the chattering of the students heading home in favour of the birds singing a melody above her head.

University wasn’t always easy for her. Success meant hard work, on the field or in the classroom. That essay for Professor Spella only went so well because Adora had poured her heart and soul into it for two weeks before it was due. Her performance for Micah had only been better because she’d been pushing herself harder than ever before. She’d spent more nights in the gym, more time on the field, and more of her mental energy on getting herself psyched for each game.

It was more than a little exhausting. Adora didn’t want people to see that, but it was something she couldn’t hide from herself. Years of therapy had at least got her to accept that she needed to relax. There was no punishment for not being a hundred percent perfect all the time. Not anymore.

“There she is!” It was Bow, finally coming out from the main doors, with Glimmer at his side. They looked a bit too happy, even for a Friday.

“Here I am, like I am every day," Adora replied. She stood up and threw her bag over her shoulder.

Glimmer crashed into her for a hug. “Yes you are, future Captain Grayskull.”

“Wait, you already know about that?”

“I was just with dad when he sent the email.” Glimmer pulled away. “But I didn’t know about it before then. I’d have told you if I did.”

It probably helped that Glimmer was so well-connected. Her father was the coach and her aunt was Adora’s history lecturer, not to mention that Glimmer’s mother Angella was the President of BMU. Adora liked to think she earned everything by her own merit, but it didn’t hurt to be Glimmer’s best friend either. 

“We’re so happy for you. You deserve it," Bow added.

“Guys, I haven’t gotten Captain yet. Micah just said it was a possibility in the future.”

Glimmer nudged her elbow. “When my dad says things like that, it’s more like a definitely in the future.”

“I don’t understand how it took this long," Bow continued. “You’ve been the best player on the team since you came here. It was only a matter of time really.”

“Again, I’m not the Captain.”

“Yet," Glimmer chirped smugly.

Adora faked an annoyed expression. “I’m going to abandon both of you.”

“No you won’t," Glimmer replied instantly.

“Even grumpy Adora can’t leave the best friend squad.”

“Can we at least leave this place behind? It’s Friday night and I am  _ done _ .” She filled the last word with all the scorn and exhaustion she could.

Bow led the way to his car, going on about something from his most recent computer class. Adora wasn’t a tech-kid so most of it flew over her head. All she did catch was how a girl called Entrapta put together a formidable bit of code to solve some problem they’d been assigned. It baffled the lecturer and Bow sounded like he’d fallen in love. Glimmer, however, wasn’t so pleased with her boyfriend’s newfound appreciation for his classmate.

“It was just amazing. I don’t know how I can communicate that to you guys.” Bow fell into the drivers’ seat, letting Glimmer ride shotgun and Adora sprawl out across the backseat. “Seriously, I—”

“Okay, Bow," Glimmer cut him off, “Entrapta sounds like a wonderful girl.”

Adora smirked. She loved Bow but he was oblivious unlike anyone she’d ever seen. Why, oh why, might Glimmer be getting touchy when her boyfriend raved about another girl? Adora couldn’t possibly imagine why. 

She pointedly didn’t intervene as Bow pulled out of the lot and took them back home. Glimmer and Bow could work themselves out and, honestly, it was funny to watch them do it. Adora had spent the first year of university watching her own idiots to lovers romance from her closest friends. Adora had learned by now to just let them stumble through things. That, apparently, was how love worked. 

Bright Moon passed them by as they went. The quiet, unusually clean streets broken by gorgeous trees, all the more beautiful in the dwindling dusk light, were enough to take the breath away. Adora was starting to love the city again, learning to savour the new memories rather than dwelling on the older, darker ones. 

Her thoughts went to Mara and Razz. She’d need to tell them the news. They’d be expecting a call from her tonight anyway.

Eventually Bow ran out of things to praise about Entrapta and they settled into a companionable silence for a while.

“So, you hear about Mermista and Sea Hawk?" Glimmer asked.

Adora perked up. “No? What happened?”

Glimmer turned back with a grin. “Guess.”

“You’re joking.” She waited, watching Glimmer’s smile grow in the rear view mirror. “Awh, yes!" Adora shouted, fist-bumping the air. “I knew Seahawk would ask her eventually.”

“Spoke to him this morning," Bow filled in, “I got all the details. Apparently he went all out: candle-lit dinner, flowers, fancy suit. The whole thing.”

“Awhhhh.” Adora’s heart swelled. “They’re so good together. I’ll have to see them soon.”

“Yeah, I’m happy for them. Hopefully it mellows Mermista out too.” There Bow went again, ever the caring friend. “Have you seen how much coffee that girl drinks? She needs to learn how to chill.”

“She’s a student, cut her some slack," Adora defended.

“I’m just saying.” Bow shrugged, turning a corner. “Plus I know a few other people that could do with figuring out how to relax.”

Adora caught both of her friends’ eyes in the mirror. “Seriously? We’re not going there.”

Glimmer groaned. “Come on. How long has it been since you went on a date?”

“Never. I don’t exactly do dating.”

“Which is all the more reason you should try it. Find a nice girl, settle down.”

Glimmer hit his shoulder. “She’s not getting married, Bow.”

“Can we please talk about literally anything else?”

“Look, all we’re saying is that it would do you good. You’re great. You deserve some love.”

“Don’t I have you guys?”

“Always," Glimmer answered with a smile, “but you know what we mean. You also need the whole buy you flowers, take you on dates, pin you up against a wall and make you enjoy it kind of love.”

“Way to be too graphic there.” Adora blushed at the thought of it. “I’m just not interested in it right now, okay? Who would I even date anyway? I’m not really into getting to know a stranger.”

“Date a friend. Worked for us.”

Adora scoffed. “Yeah, I have so many options. Mermista? Spinarella and Netossa? No problems with it there.”

“You’ll figure something out," Bow assured her.

Adora sank deeper into the backseat. “I’ll think about it after I graduate. I’ve got enough to deal with right now.”

Neither of her friends were satisfied with that answer. Fortunately, Adora had proven how stubborn she could be in the past. They let it slide and fell into conversation about something else.

Up the hill just outside of town was Whispering Woods, a small neighbourhood that was just a bit upmarket. Streets of spacious, decently-priced homes, each with gardens and multiple bedrooms, would seem unthinkable for most students. Bright Moon, with its out of the way location and low population, just happened to be an exceptionally affordable place to live. Sure, Glimmer’s family were wealthy, Bow’s too, but they didn’t flaunt it. Adora wasn’t wealthy but did have the leftovers from her parents' estate. The thought immediately soured her mood. She didn’t need to think about that. Not today at least.

Bow turned down their street and pulled into the driveway. Their house was one of the more modest ones in the area, but more than liveable. They hopped out together, quiet and content.

“You all know I’m making us dinner tonight, don’t you?" Bow said gleefully as he unlocked the door.

It was Adora’s luckiest break to fall in with a good cook too. “How can we ever repay you?" Adora exaggerated it with a hand on her chest and a skip in her voice.

“Buy us pizza tomorrow. I’m not cooking on a Saturday.”

Glimmer didn’t need to think. “Deal.”

They scattered around the house. Bow hit the kitchen, Glimmer plonked down on the couch, and Adora headed to her room. She’d rejoin the others after taking a moment to herself.

She fell onto her bed with a huff. All things considered, it had been a good day. It had been a good week. Hell, it had been a good year. Her grades were soaring, her game had never been stronger, she’d never been more comfortable with her friends, and Mara and Razz were just as supportive as ever.

So what was wrong with her? Why, every day, did she have to take this time to just steady herself? What wasn’t quite right with her?

It was not her love life, despite Glimmer and Bow raising the topic. Adora had never needed or desired that with anyone. Sure, she’d been attracted to people, but she never so much as dated anyone. It was too much work and, honestly, a little bit scary. Besides, it would distract her from everything else. Or worse, everything else would distract her from the person she pursued. Adora wasn’t going to let either of those things go badly, so why risk them?

There were other explanations too. The people that should be here but weren’t. The people that had once been there but would never be again. Those things never quite left her mind. They’d stay with her no matter what. Sometimes they’d just pop up in her thoughts without any particular prompting, dragging down her mood without warning or explanation. 

Maybe it was just one of those days.

“Adora?” Glimmer knocked heavily on her door. “Come on, you’ve gotta see what Bow’s doing to the kitchen.”

“I told you, it is not on fire! I actually know what I'm doing. remember?" She heard Bow scream from elsewhere in the house.

Adora snorted a laugh. “Okay, I’ll be right there.”

She made herself leap up from the bed. Whatever problems lingered at the back of her mind, at least she had people there to take her mind off them. Adora could never appreciate that enough.  


* * *

It was a short drive home. Scorpia’s place was on the outskirts of town, a quiet neighbourhood that never had much of interest going on. It was just the sort of place someone like Scorpia would love. It was just the sort of place that Catra would hate.

Scorpia had, mercifully, stopped telling Catra about her plans. Now the woman was barking them into a cell phone with Perfuma on the other end. At least it gave Catra an excuse to avoid conversation.

She turned into their street, slowing down to make sure she didn’t overshoot. Scorpia’s bungalow was halfway up, lights left on because Scorpia wanted passers-by ‘to think someone was home’ in case they were planning on breaking in. Catra thought it was a dumb idea.

Catra pulled up on the curb. Scorpia’s car was in the driveway, like usual. One of the few things Catra did try to do was drive them places. If they shared a shift, Catra insisted on driving. Scorpia appreciated it a bit too much. Catra just couldn’t stand the idea of having yet another thing done for her out of pity. She could drive her own damn self around. If giving Scorpia a lift to and from work got the woman off her case a little bit then it was worth doing. 

“Yeah, okay honey, we’ve just made it back. I’ll text you when I leave, okay?” Scorpia waited a moment, her smile widening as she listened. “Love you too, sweetie. Bye.” She hung up and smiled broadly at Catra. “Thanks, wild cat.”

“I’ve told you," Catra grumbled as she yanked her keys from the ignition, “you don’t need to thank me every time I give you a lift. I need to get home too.”

“I know I don’t have to. I just like to.” 

Scorpia hopped out with a spring in her step and let herself inside. Catra watched Scorpia go, digging her nails into the steering wheel as if to let out some bit of tension in her. It baffled her, annoyed her even, that Scorpia could be so happy all of the time. Yeah sure, she had Perfuma, but even before that Scorpia had been so damn pleased with everything. They worked in the same place and lived in the same house, and Catra couldn’t think of why Scorpia managed to enjoy it. Maybe Catra just couldn't understand what it was like to enjoy one's life. 

“Hey Catra?” Scorpia poked her head out of the door. “You coming?”

She’d been wallowing too long. Catra grabbed the stuff she’d slung on to the backseat, locked the car, and headed inside. 

Scorpia had dropped her stuff by the door and was rushing up the hall towards her bedroom. "I've gotta get ready and head out. Sorry I'm running off so quickly." She turned back before heading in to her room. "You’ll live for another night, won’t you?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Catra, you know I don’t like those jokes," Scorpia scolded.  __

“Relax, Scorpia. You won’t find me floating face down in the bathtub when you get back. Promise.” 

It was a shame there was no award for gallows humour. Catra might have had something to her name if there was.

Scorpia wasn’t impressed but knew to let it go. “I could call Entrapta, if you want."  
  
Catra headed to her door. "I'm fine, Scorpia. Stop worrying over me."

"That's what friends are for." Scorpia checked her watch again. “Oh boy, I should really be getting ready. Wish me luck?”

“Luck?" Catra raised an eyebrow as she opened her door. “You’re already dating her, how could you need luck for anything?”

“I know, I know. Can never be too careful though. Don’t want to mess things up.”

Catra shook her head. Scorpia was physically incapable of messing things up. That was Catra’s department.  Catra slipped into her room and shut the door without another word, pressing her back up against it as if to make sure it stayed shut. 

A single unmade bed was pushed up against the wall, just beneath the window. The curtains were drawn shut to keep out the prying eyes of passers-by in the street, as well as keep the outside from intruding in her one little corner of the world. Catra ditched her bag onto the chair by the desk and switched out of her sweaty work clothes into some shorts and a dirty old t-shirt.

She'd already settled on something to keep herself entertained.

Heading for her desk, she leaned down and opened the third drawn down. She recoiled a second later when she felt something slick under her palm. Atop the desk, she’d dropped her hand onto a dirty old plate stained with Monday’s bolognese. She sniffed it and nearly weretched.  _ Oh, the Monday before that’s bolognese.  _ Disgusted, she pushed the plate aside, only to find it sitting on top of her sketchbook. That thought only made her more angry. She pretended not to have noticed it and leaned back down to the drawer.

Nestled away neatly under some random garbage she’d shoved in there was her beautiful bottle of Sierra Tequila. Now this was a hobby she could get behind.

She fell back onto her bed, popping the curious little top off the bottle, and took a sip. There was enough left that she knew she shouldn’t drink it all tonight. Turning up to work tomorrow morning with a hangover wasn’t going to do her any favours. Maybe this time she’d actually listen to that restraining voice in her head.

Drinking was a silent activity for Catra. It also tended to be her only time to actually take stock of her life. She needed the numbness and the forgetfulness that the alcohol promised her.

She'd bought the bottle in preparation for today, but apparently she'd been premature. Catra’s days in Target were certainly still numbered though. Therefore her days of being able to afford her car, her rent, and even her tequila. Today might not be her last at Target, but tomorrow might.

She took another sip.

“Okay, Catra! I’m heading out. See you tomorrow!”

Catra didn’t answer. Scorpia’s car started and pulled out of the driveway. The rumble of the engine faded into the distance, leaving her alone at last.

“Good riddance," she muttered to no one in particular.

She didn’t hate Scorpia. Even Catra couldn’t hate Scorpia. She hated just about everything and everyone else, but she didn’t hate the woman that housed her. She did hate her sunny disposition, she did hate her prying, she did hate the bone-crushing hugs Scorpia roped her into, but she didn’t quite hate Scorpia.

Then again, she’d told herself she didn’t hate people before.

She took another sip, larger this time.

Catra knew what it looked like. She knew almost anyone that saw her in this position and cared enough to ask - which would be no one, but still - would ask where things had gone wrong. When had life become so fucking dismal?

The truth was that it had never  _ not _ been this. Catra’s mood wasn’t new. Life had been about this terrible since long before she worked at Target and met Scorpia. It had been dreadful when she’d been crashing at Lonnie’s place, the one girl from the Bright Moon House of Residence for Minors - Horde Orphanage, as its inmates called it - that had kept in touch after leaving. Of course it hadn’t lasted. Lonnie had kicked Catra’s deadbeat ass out after a few months and never spoken to her again.

Another sip. A nice large one too.

Before that there was Double Trouble. Some performer Catra met just before the orphanage turned her out. When she hit eighteen, lovely Mrs Weaver kicked Catra to the curb as fast as she could. It was impulse that got her to crash on Double Trouble’s couch for almost nine months. It might have lasted too, if Double Trouble hadn’t turned around one day and said they were moving across the country for a job. With just a day’s notice, Catra had been homeless.

Catra barely noticed as she downed another mouthful.

Double Trouble and Lonnie could both get screwed. They’d done her dirty, but at least they weren’t as bad as what had come before. 

She’d been tossed around the adoption system throughout her childhood. ‘Family’ number one - and she always used that word ironically - had picked her out just after she turned twelve and given her up after a few months: too difficult they’d said. It was a similar story for family two. That one had only taken a few weeks. Honestly, Catra was almost impressed with how quickly she wore those bastards out.  Family three were even worse. The wife had wanted a kid but the husband sure as hell hadn’t and made sure Catra knew it. The wife had, reluctantly at least, returned her to the orphanage before, presumably, fleeing from the husband. Catra never knew what became of them. She never thought to ask really.  Family four had been just like families one and two. A few months of Catra was enough to scare anyone away. As for family five, if she could ever call that piece of shit ‘family’ anything, she was too angry to even think. It had hardened her. Maybe she did owe that jackass Hordak that much.

She put the bottle to her lips and swallowed twice, three times. 

They’d all left her anyway. Each time they threw her back to the worst one of all. Mrs Weaver was a cruel, overbearing, spiteful woman, and Catra had been her favourite play thing. On nicer days, she’d be given extra chores, have her school work suddenly ‘forgotten’, or simply be overlooked for new clothes. On normal days, it was forgotten food, insults, arbitrary punishments. On the really bad days, Mrs Weaver did everything short of laying a finger on her. Kind and benevolent Weaver would never stoop so low as to physically abuse a child after all. Emotional abuse was good enough for her.

Catra didn’t bother to count how many swigs she took then. Far too many to be healthy, sure, but nothing about her life had been healthy. Nothing had been good. No one had valued her or kept her around long enough to care. Lonnie, Double Trouble, the families, Weaver, Target, and soon Scorpia too.

She leaned her head against the wall. How long would Scorpia keep putting up with this? If Catra did lose her job, how long until Scorpia had enough? That limit had to be somewhere. No one had infinite patience and Catra was the best way to prove that. 

Everything Catra had was on borrowed time. Her job security, the patience of the people around her, and even the tequila in her hand were draining away every second. That had always been the case. It would always be the case. It would be the epitaph scrawled on her tombstone. Catra let out a laugh, muffled by the bottle. She was lying to herself on that one. Someone needed to care enough to give you a tombstone. 

Something inside her crawled up though. A little piece of her that Catra tried so hard to forget. She tried so hard to pretend it never existed, but it had a mind of its own. It tried sneaking up on her at times like this, but nothing snuck up on Catra Maullar, so she was always forced to remember it.

That little thing was Adora Grayskull.

Twelve-year old Catra had one thing in the world, and Adora was it. Adora, the stuck-up, selfish, spineless, back-stabbing girl that Catra had truly, honestly, loved to pieces. They had been inseparable ever since Adora showed up aged six. For six years even Weaver’s abuse couldn’t bring Catra down. Adora had been happiness and life, hope and friendship, joy and a childhood free from all the garbage that life threw at Catra.

Of course that only made it hurt more when it came to an end.

She swung the bottle back. Nothing came out. Catra held it up to the light and then tossed the empty bottle aside. It was just her fucking luck, wasn’t it?

Catra only felt angrier now. Whether the alcohol or fatigue or something else was doing it, she didn’t know.

_ No, it’s Adora _ , she told herself.  _ It’s all she's ever done. _

Once, she would have worshipped the ground Adora walked on, but people do stupid things when they’re kids. They think stupid things. Catra had been an idiot to think she’d get to have anything good.

A woman showed up when they were twelve. The first time, she came to see all of the kids, a rare visit from a potential adopter. The second time, she’d taken Adora somewhere for an afternoon. Catra remembered being so jealous. The third time, she took Adora for good. Papers were signed, agreements made, and Adora was out of there. Older Catra knew the process had been going on behind the scenes. To twelve year old Catra though, it was a knife in the ribs without a moment’s warning.

Catra had been heartbroken. Adora had cried too. Crocodile tears, Catra told herself now. Catra remembered screaming and bawling as the evil woman shut the car door, taking Adora away from her forever. She remembered Weaver’s almost satisfied smile as she left Catra in tears without a word of sympathy. Worst of all though, she remembered that broken promise:  _ I’ll come back, _

Adora never came back. Perfect, wonderful, lovely Adora stayed with her new family. Not once did Adora come back to see her. Of course the promise had been a lie. Adora had left, just like Catra’s parents, and just like everyone else since. 

Eight years later and Adora was dead and buried as far as Catra was concerned. She hadn’t seen any of her families since being abandoned again either. She’d not seen Double Trouble or Lonnie, nor Weaver. Each chapter had been closed, but here she was carrying the scars all the same.

She looked around the room. Her head spun and her vision blurred. None too soon, in her opinion. 

How long until what little she still had slipped away? How long until this chapter was gone as well? How long until she truly had no one left?

Catra knew the answer.  _ Not long at all.  
_

* * *

Bright Moon’s warm evenings were divine. Adora had her window open a crack to let cool air drift in, carrying with it the rustling of the trees behind the house. It was peaceful and pure, so much better than being stuck in dorms like they had been last year.  They also got better internet here too. Her calls with Mara and Razz were smooth and easy, not the janky lag-filled affairs they’d been before. 

Adora lay on her bed, laptop resting on her chest, as the connection went through. She’d let her hair down and it spilled over across the pillow under her, just like Mara always said she loved. Well, Mara said she loved everything about Adora, but it seemed she liked that a lot too.

Finally, the connection came through. Mara sat beaming at their kitchen table back in Sileneas with Razz giving her a toothy grin.

“Hey kiddo," Mara started.

“There you are, dearie! We missed you very much!”

Razz said the same thing every time. Her adoptive grandmother was as much a mother to her as Mara was. When Razz had moved in with Mara a few years back, Adora found herself almost drowning in their affection.

“Hey guys, missed you too. How are things?”

“You know how it is, they’re good," Mara replied. “Still a bit empty without you but we’ll survive.”

Mara was a blessing Adora cloud never thank her enough for. Mara had salvaged her from that hole of an orphanage and given her the best life she could. Mara wasn’t rich or well-connected, but she was loving. Nothing could make up for that.

“How are things going in Bright Moon?" Mara asked.

“Really good.” Adora nodded, her hair dragging across the pillow. “My last assignment went really well. Professor Spella was impressed.”

“Ah, that’s my Adora," Razz squealed, doing a little jig in her chair. Adora couldn’t help but giggle.

Mara put a calming hand on her mother’s shoulder. “Alright, mother. But yes, Adora, we’re very proud of you. We’d expect nothing less from you.”

Adora carefully avoided thinking about what that meant for her. Of course she was glad Mara and Razz had such faith in her. Then again, it was a little daunting. Anything less than perfection wasn’t the Adora that they’d known so far. That had been easier in middle school, even high school. It got harder as she got older. The bar was set high, and it took more effort to meet it. Effort that Adora wasn’t always sure she could muster.

“Also…" Adora swiftly moved on to the other piece of news, “I’ve had my best season so far on the field. Coach Micah says that maybe there could be a Captain Adora Grayskull some time.”

Mara’s eyes lit up and she swelled with pride. “Honey, that’s wonderful. I’m so proud of you.”

Adora spent a while expanding on those two things. She knew most of the talk of sports went completely over Razz’s head, and she also knew better than to fry their brains with talk of what her classes actually entailed. So she kept it simple, keeping to the basics, and then went to the other less serious things. Mara always soaked up gossip like a sponge. Adora had spent so many hours of her life lounging on the couch and catching Mara up on any high school drama. It was a bit harder like this, but she tried anyway.

“So what have you guys been doing?" Adora asked after tapping the rumour well dry.

“Getting old, like usual.”

“Mother!" Mara playfully tapped Razz’s shoulder. “We’ve actually been cleaning up around here. I finally got into the attic and gutted the place. We had bags of stuff to get rid of.” Adora’s face must have flashed with panic. “Don’t worry, we put your stuff aside. You can go through it next time you visit.”

She let out a sigh of relief. “Oh thank god. I was going to cry if you threw out my old things. Did you find anything cool?”

“A few things," Mara replied casually.

“Big sword!” Razz waved her arms and leapt up, hurrying off camera far too spritely for an eighty year old.

“No, wait! Mother! be careful!” Mara went off too.

Adora blinked a few times. “Uh, guys?”

“Aha!” Razz appeared in view. “Big sword!”

Sure enough, in her grandmother’s hands was a big sword. Well, a long sword. Not a literal longsword, but a thin, long one. A fencing sword, if Adora had to guess.

“My old fencing blade," Mara explained. “I thought I’d gotten rid of it years ago.”

Adora sprang up. “Wait, you fenced?”

“I did lots of sports as a kid.”

“But fencing?” Adora was sitting up now with child-like glee. “We had a sword in the house all this time and I didn’t know?”

Mara smirked. “Probably for the best that little Adora didn’t find out. I like all my fingers. I’m sure you like yours too.”

She scoffed, feigning offense. “I would be great with a sword. I’m a history student.”

“That doesn’t…” Mara sighed, shaking her head, “I’ll keep it around until you get back. I think I can trust you not to poke your eye out with it.”

Adora almost bounced in place. “You know I love you, right?”

“I know.” Mara shook her head. “That reminds me. We did come across something of yours that we wanted to show you.” Mara got up again and went to fetch something. “Give me a second.”

Adora was already cringing. She couldn’t imagine what embarrassing photo of teenage Adora they’d pulled from a box somewhere. Maybe they’d found her drawings of her godawful teenage fantasies. She-Ra and her magic sword, fighting the evil Horde. She still admired how much projection teenage Adora could work into her daydreams.

“Here we are.”

Mara set a box down in front of the camera. An old faded cardboard shoe box with Adora’s name scrawled on top of it. Adora’s mouth suddenly felt dry and her heart skipped. She definitely recognised it.

“That’s my stuff… from the orphanage.”

When Mara had rescued her from Mrs Weaver’s clutches, all Adora brought with her was that little shoe box. It carried the few things she actually had to her name. A picture of her birth parents, a toy or two, baubles and trinkets, and some snacks if she remembered rightly. 

She wondered how much could still be in there. The photo of her parents sat in a frame across the room from her. She’d eaten the snacks in the car ride from the orphanage. She was pretty sure she looted the toys from it too.

Adora swallowed. No, she did know what was left in that box. She knew who was left in there.

Mara was already ahead of her. She pulled out a tiny photo and a few scraps of paper with childish drawings.

“Here we are, look at you! So small and cute!”

There, pushed in front of the camera, was little Adora. Blonde hair, wide-smiled, blue-eyed Adora. It was taken two years before Mara adopted her. Adora was sitting on a cheap Santa’s knee, grinning like a little idiot. A charity group had come around to give the kids a visit from Santa. It was one of the only happy memories Adora had from that place. 

But it wasn’t Adora that mattered. The person that mattered was on Santa’s other knee. A curly-haired, tan-skinned girl with mismatched eyes, one blue and one yellowish-green, with scrapes up her arms and a similar toothy grin. 

“It’s so precious to see you so young," Mara continued, entirely oblivious to what she’d just uncovered. “And your friend! Oh, what was her name? Carla? Katie?”

“Catra.”  The name fell from her lips like a forbidden curse. Like a word of power that, once uttered, would rouse an ancient beast from its lair or stir some primal power beyond her control.

“Oh that’s right," Mara continued, still completely ignorant of Adora’s shift in mood. “I wonder what became of her. Do you know at all?”

Adora didn’t answer. She was lost, staring at the little girl who’d once been her only friend in the world. Catra had been stubborn, annoying, even violent with the wrong sorts of people, but Adora had never trusted anyone like she had her. Adora had friends now, sure, but her and Catra had been something else. They had been bound together, utterly inseparable in the face of everything life had thrown at them.

Inseparable, until they were separated. Until Mara had come in and taken Adora away, leaving Catra in tears on the orphanage steps. It had been eight years now but the image still shattered her heart into a thousand pieces.

“Um, no," Adora answered weakly. “I-I don’t. No.” 

There was more than one reason Adora had come back to Bright Moon. Yes, the university was great and the town was too, but it was more than that. When Adora had told Mara, her adoptive mother had been worried at first. Bright Moon had been a place of pain for her before. Her parents had lived here, and died here. It was from Bright Moon’s orphanage that Mara had taken her. It was Bright Moon that she’d known and loved and lost Catra in. 

Adora couldn't lie to herself. Some bit of her came here to reclaim this place. She’d spent years overcoming what she now knew was abuse under Mrs Weaver. Adora wanted to come back and banish the darkness that hung over this place. For the most part, she’d succeeded, but not completely. The old East side of town where Horde was remained off-limits for her. Adora didn’t know exactly where the orphanage was and she didn’t want to find out either. 

Worst of all, after all this time, she didn’t have a clue where Catra was.

She’d looked, of course. She’d scoured social media more than a few times growing up as she tried to find a trace of Catra. Nothing came of it. She even hunted down one of the other kids they’d grown up with, a meek young boy named Kyle, but he’d not seen anyone from the orphanage in years. She’d written it off as a dead-end years ago.

Part of her entertained the dream of seeing Catra again. She imagined walking down the street and stumbling into a beautiful girl with mismatched eyes and wrapping her in a hug that she’d waited almost ten years to have. The dream of reconnecting and picking things up from where they’d been torn apart was one of her most cherished fantasies. It was a stupid hope, of course. Even if Catra hadn’t been adopted and taken away since Adora left, Catra would still be twenty years old. She’d have hit the road and left Bright Moon in the dust without a second thought the moment the opportunity came.

“Ah well, sometimes people drift apart.” Mara put the photo back, still oblivious. “I’m sure she’s fine.”

Adora had spent far too long pondering that last part. Adora’s life was good one, but it wasn’t perfect, and the road to get here had been long and difficult. Mara and Razz’s unflinching love, friends like Bow and Glimmer, years of hard work in school and on the field, and countless hours of therapy to figure out how to manage the fallout of the trauma she’d weathered - so much had gone into getting Adora where she was today.

Something in her doubted Catra had been given the same things she’d had. Adora hoped and prayed that Catra had found something like it but not a day went by that Adora didn’t also realise how exceptionally lucky she’d been. Precious few others would be as fortunate as Adora had been. In all likelihood, Catra wasn’t one of those lucky few. 

“Dearie?” It was Razz, squinting from behind her glasses. “Is everything alright?”

“What, me?" She deflected. “Yeah it’s fine. I just haven’t thought about that stuff in a while.”

Mara immediately set the box aside. “I’m sorry, we shouldn’t have dropped it on you like that. I know it can be hard.”

“No it’s fine.” Adora hated letting others feel bad for her. Mara didn’t mean to upset her so Adora could never hold it against her. “I… it was nice of you guys to show me.”

Adora phased out for most of the rest of the call. Her focus drifted in enough to know when to reply, but little of it actually went in. Something about Mara’s neighbours, something else about Razz not taking her medication, and something about Swiftwind messing with the other dogs at the park enough to get them kicked out.

When the time came to hang up, Adora didn’t realise how late it had gotten. Usually she had work to do and ended the call on her own terms, but she’d been too far gone to pay attention.  With a final smile, a wave, and an exchange of ‘I love yous’, Mara and Razz disconnected. 

Then she was alone. Not even the gentle thrum of Bow and Glimmer’s music through the wall felt like a real presence. The air through the window suddenly felt cold and uninviting, resurrecting traces of the old Bright Moon she’d tried so hard to vanquish from her mind. 

Adora didn’t know how long she sat there, staring into a blank laptop screen, dwelling on yet another person she’d never be able to hold again.


	2. Too Much To Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may have noticed I've reduced the expected chapter count. It’ll still warrant the slow burn tag, but it’ll be just a little bit shorter than originally planned. As I’m sure you’ve noticed, my chapters are long, so I’m still expecting this to cross the 100k word mark.
> 
> Now if you thought the last chapter was full of angst and trauma then oh boy do I have something for you...

Catra woke up in phases.

First was the realisation that she’d fallen asleep on the floor. She was sprawled face-down across the carpet with the carpet’s patterns imprinted on her cheek. Second came the awful headache, coupled with the cotton mouth. Third came Scorpia’s incessant knocking at the door. Fourth came the realisation that the sun was high in the sky and shining through the cracks under her curtains.

“Catra? Catra!”

She pushed herself to her knees. The offending tequila bottle lay empty on the ground beside her. 

Scorpia knocked again. “Catra? Are you in there?”

Catra groaned. She tried to stand up, only to feel a rush of dizziness. Her coordination was still off and her breath still reeked of alcohol. It hadn’t worked its way out of her system yet, not fully.

_Fucking wonderful._

“Yeah I’m here, Scopria," she answered through gritted teeth. “Can you stop banging the door already? You’re giving me a headache.” It most certainly was not Scorpia giving her this headache, but Scorpia didn’t need to know that.

“Oh, yeah, sorry about that. It’s just that it’s, you know, kinda late. It’s half ten and—” 

Catra’s eyes went wide. “Half past ten?" She checked her phone and, sure enough, the time was right. Unacknowledged notifications hung on her screen. Two missed alarms for 7:30 and 8:00, as well as a text from her boss. “Oh shit. I’m so fucking late.”

Still stumbling a bit as she rose, Catra threw on her other set of work clothes as quickly as she could. There was no time to eat, drink, or shower. Two minutes later she was forcing herself out of her room, head pounding, as Scorpia watched from the kitchen.

“Do you want a lift?” 

“I’ll be fine, Scorpia.” Catra slipped her shoes on without looking back.

“Catra, sweetie.” It was Perfuma’s voice. She guessed she shouldn’t be surprised to see the blonde woman poke her head around the kitchen door. “Are you sure you’re safe to drive?”

_It might be better if I don’t make it to work today._

“I’m fine.” She stood up, ignoring the rush of dizziness and head pain that came with, and rushed out of the door.

“Catra!”

She almost barged into Entrapta. The young woman stood with wide-eyes on their doorstep, dressed in her usual dirty overalls, with a tablet and some papers in her hand.

“Hey," Catra said weakly. “I’m in a rush, Traps.”

“Oh, my, I can see that.” Entrapta stepped aside but her eyes kept searching her. “You’re still intoxicated. You’re certainly over the legal limit. It would be irresponsible to drive in your condition.”

Catra rolled her eyes. “Yeah. Probably.” That didn’t stop her getting behind the wheel.

Scorpia and Perfuma were on the doorstep, watching her with concern. Catra felt a spike of anger. This wasn’t their business. If Catra wanted to get blackout drunk and drive the next morning, that was her choice. None of them had to like it.

She missed the ignition a few times before managing to slot the keys in. She pulled out, forgetting her seatbelt, and drove onwards. Her head screamed at her. Stress, alcohol, and dehydration were teaming up to give her brain a good beating. Skipping a drink or some food was going to make these next few hours a hundred times worse.

It was too late to worry about that now. She could eat later, maybe. Then again, dropping out mid-shift might be fun. Maybe they’d let her go home then.

Everything annoyed her. The strained whirs of the old car, the squeaking in the back that she hadn’t figured out yet, the shit-for-brains drivers that scurried about Bright Moon’s streets like herds of brain-damaged lambs to the slaughter. She hated it all. God, she really fucking did.

Turning her head made the dizziness worse. Catra tried not to move much at all, staring rigidly ahead and forcing her eyes open. The morning light was too bright, burning into her eyes. Why had everything conspired to screw with her this morning?

This was going to be an awful day. She could already feel it.

Target’s parking lot was nearly full by the time she arrived. There’d be crowds and they’d no doubt be understaffed like usual. With all of the closer spots full, Catra slid into a space on the far side of the lot and walked over. Her head pounded with every step, each impact of her feet sending a new jolt of pain. Customers in the parking lot noticed her as she went. Catra hadn’t braved a look in the mirror this morning, probably for the best. With messy uniform, unwashed hair, a stumbling gait, and no doubt bags under her blood-shot eyes, she was a mess. _Well, shit. Talk about dressing as you feel._

One of the patrons sniffed audibly as soon as she got inside. Whether the lack of showering or the stench of alcohol had caused that, she couldn’t tell.

“Oh, Catra," another employee greeted her. She’d never learned the guy’s name. “We didn’t think you were coming.”

“Full of fucking surprises aren’t I.” 

There was a gasp from an elderly woman who quickly covered the ears of the girl at her feet. “Young lady, that was very inappropriate. My granddaughter doesn’t need to hear your filth.”

Catra just rolled her eyes. She was not in the mood for this. Unfortunately, the old woman took that as a provocation.

“How dare you roll your eyes at me? That is appalling behaviour towards a customer. In all my years, I’ve never seen such disrespect!”

Catra sniggered, her inhibitions still fargone. “Don’t like it, don’t come here.”

“Catra!” Her colleague did his best to salvage things. Poor kid. “Ma’am, I am so sorry!”

“Miss Maullar!” The mispronounced name could only have come from one person. Sure enough, her boss appeared from somewhere to her side. From the look on his face, he’d seen everything. “My office. Now!”

She stared at the middle-aged man, clipboard in hand, glaring at her with all the impotent anger middle-management could muster. The old woman was watching with a sense of smug pride that made Catra’s skin crawl. Her hapless work colleague was staring helplessly between everything like a child.

This was it, she knew. The final straw. The last hurrah. The final moments as the train barrelled off the track into the ravine below. The least she could do was make a show of it.

“No, I’m not going to your fucking office, _Derek_.” Catra folded her arms, standing as firmly as her drunk body could manage. “Whatever you want to say, you can say it here.” She threw her arms out around the store. Other people were starting to notice.

Derek bristled in place. The extra eyes weren’t welcome. “Miss Mauller, this isn’t—” 

“Do it, you fucking coward.” Catra dug her nails into her arms. Derek didn’t move. “Say it!” 

“Miss Mauller, I’m afraid...”

Catra threw her head back and laughed. “Oh, _come on._ ”

“Please leave the premises," Derek finally said pathetically. “I will be requesting your uniform. Please do not attempt to show up for any shifts you might previously have been scheduled.”

She squinted at the man. “That’s it? Man, that was fucking weak.”

When she’d imagined this moment, she thought she might see some real fire, some real energy. Instead, it was a cowardly and fumbling affair from her boss. Maybe he was still too scared to be too blunt with her after the debacle yesterday. Oh, she’d hate if that was the case.

“Serves you right," the old woman chimed. She looked so pleased with herself. “You can’t walk around treating people like that. You suffer the consequences.”

“Oh please," Catra laughed. She knew how ridiculous that was. Most of the people who’d screwed her over got off scot-fucking-free. Karma had no intention of watching over her.

“Miss Mauller," Derek said again, “please—” 

“Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first time. Get out and all that. Whatever you say, Derek.” 

Catra turned towards the door. She almost started walking but no, this wasn’t quite good enough. If the plane was going down, she wanted it to be on fire. Just like she’d done when she got free of Weaver’s claws. 

A bad idea popped into her head but given the situation and her blood-alcohol content, she couldn’t care less. 

“You wanted my uniform, right?” Before she could second-guess herself, she pulled the red polo over her head and dumped it on the ground.

Really, the gasps were unwarranted. She was in a sports bra. It was nothing more explicit than some girls jogged in. Still, there was some satisfaction in pissing everyone here off. The haggard old woman looked like she was about to faint. 

Free of this place, Catra turned on her heels and strolled to the door. Half of the customers started, others averted their eyes, as she marched across the parking lot back to her car. She stumbled, she looked like shit, and she felt it too in most places, but for the briefest second she felt some feeling of power. For once, she made a choice and got away with it. For once, she’d had some modicum of control when everything came crashing down around her. For once, just once, everyone’s attention and mind had been on her and not anything else.

By the time she got into her car, adrenaline had flushed through her system. Her head still wanted to murder her, but the thin haze around her thoughts started to fall. The first thought was an obvious one.

_What the fuck did you just do?_

Only then did Catra realise what a disaster she’d become. She’d just stumbled half-drunk and half-clothed across a parking lot like it was some sort of victory. She’d walked away from her only source of income, her only piece of maturity and stability in her life, and acted like she was winning. She’d sealed the fate of her life, her home, and her last remaining friends for nothing.

God, she was a fucking idiot.

Now here she was. Hungover, cold, unemployed, and completely, totally alone.

The dam burst with a pathetic sob. 

* * *

Adora was good at pretending. She had to be when growing up. How many times had she lied to Mara that things were okay when they really weren’t? It was habit at this point. Adora was the responsible success story who was in control of everything. Anything less wasn’t good enough.

She’d become a little better at things with Glimmer and Bow. The memory of a long, sleepless night of tears and hugs in the lead up to their first college-level exams was enough of a testament to that. She wasn’t afraid to let them see that everything wasn’t always easy for her.

But this was different. For all her trust of them, Adora hadn’t shared much of her past with Glimmer and Bow. They knew her parents were gone and that Adora had once lived in Bright Moon before moving away with Mara. That was it. The orphanage, Weaver, and Catra didn’t exist in their vision of Adora’s life. It wasn’t that she wanted to keep Catra away from them, just that there was never any reason to bring it up. Never one that didn’t hurt, anyway.

So when Adora didn’t emerge for their movie night after getting off the call with Mara and Razz, Glimmer and Bow were understandably confused. A half-hearted excuse of being worn out from all the news got Adora out of it. Thoughts about Catra, mixed in with the guilt of lying about things all over again, made it impossible to sleep that night.

The next morning, she was a bit more composed. She had a strong suspicion that Glimmer and Bow knew something was off. They didn’t comment on it, much to her relief. They tried to act normal when Adora set off for her gym session. She knew they would discuss it once she was gone. As she drove, she couldn’t help but search each face she passed. Would she even recognise Catra if she saw the girl now? Adora hoped she would. Those beautiful mismatched eyes would never be mistaken. That childish fantasy of an unexpected run in filled her thoughts. That she’d turn a corner and barrel right into Catra’s arms, laughing and crying like nothing had ever torn them apart.

It didn’t leave her in the gym either. Adora gave cardio a rest for today. Strength training ate up her hour that morning. The punching bag, deadlifts, punching bag, push-ups, punching bag again. It was on that third cycle that Adora realised she’d been gravitating to that. She was angry. The urge to punch something, to let loose on something had come packaged up with all those feelings about Catra and her childhood.

What she’d rather have behind her fist than the bag, she didn’t know. Not Catra; no definitely not Catra. Weaver? From all the abuse, it would make sense, but that wasn’t right either. The other kids? The ones that mocked Catra mercilessly for her eyes, distinctive accent, and frizzy hair that Adora was always so jealous of? As much as she hated them, she didn’t really want to crush their faces under her fist. She had once, but younger Adora’s boisterous attitude didn’t go well with an eleven year old girl’s scrawny frame. 

Huntara, the gym owner, had to stop her going to town on the bag. The woman did compliment her on her form though, which was nice, but also said she knew angry punches when she saw them, and didn’t fancy having to replace any equipment.

There was no post-workout clarity either. After showering and getting back in the car, she felt no better. Just empty and cold. 

She missed Catra. That was no revelation. But she’d written it off as a dead-end years ago. There was nothing she could do to find her. Adora had tried, oh how she’d tried, but it came to nothing. Catra was gone. So why couldn’t Adora let her go?

Upon getting home, Adora managed to slip into the shower and change without intrusion from her friends. There was no comment on how unusually silent she was when she made some lunch either. Bow and Glimmer just sat in the living room, exchanging concerned looks as Adora tried to pretend that everything was fine.

“So…” Bow began, not so subtle in hiding his intent, “did you sleep well?”

“Yes," she lied. 

A beat of silence passed. Adora slurped her soup loudly as if it would give some distraction.

“Were Mara and Razz okay?" Glimmer tried.

“Mhm," Adora nodded with a mouthful of food. “They’re, you know, Mara and Razz.”

Her friends’ stares were grating on her now. Adora let her spoon fall into the soup, stirring it lazily. Neither of them wanted to be the first one to push the issue.

Eventually, Adora thought she might as well do it. “I’m not getting out of talking about this, am I?”

Bow cleared his throat. “I mean, we won’t make you talk about it if you really don’t want to.”

“We’re just worried about you," Glimmer continued. “You’ve been acting weird since last night. We just want to know if everything’s okay.”

It wasn’t okay, but it wasn’t something they could fix either. Part of her wanted to skulk away and tell them to forget she said anything, but she was better than that. That behaviour was old Adora, fresh out of the orphanage, still unable to piece together everything she’d experienced. There was no shame in having an instinct that told you to hide. What mattered was powering through it and doing what was necessary. That was what the therapist used to say, anyway. Adora did her best to live by it, not always succeeding.

She put her lunch at the foot of the couch and took a deep breath. “You know my parents died before I went to live with Mara, right?”

Glimmer was at her side in an instant with an arm wrapped around her. “Of course we do. Is it about them?”

“Not really.” Adora swallowed. “It’s just… I’ve never spoken to you guys about it but… I didn’t get adopted by Mara right away.” They both seemed surprised. “My parents died when I was six. Mara only adopted me when I was twelve.”

Bow nodded along understandingly. “You were an orphan.”

“The Bright Moon Residential Home for Minors.” Even now, the name tasted bitter.

“Wait, the one on the other side of town?” Glimmer looked away, remembering something. “I used to go past that a lot when we went out of town. It always looked, uh…”

“Awful? Like a prison? Like a dirty fucking hellhole?”

“It was bad, huh?”

“That’s one word for it. Abusive. A nightmare. Any of them really.” Adora shut her eyes, hoping to shut out the memories with it. “They never hit us or anything but I guess there’s more than one way to hurt a kid. They were harsh and inattentive and all sorts of other things. The woman that ran it, Mrs Weaver, played favourites too. Some of the kids she’d shower with praise and attention, others she’d ‘forget’ to even feed some nights.”

Glimmer’s fist clenched around her shoulder. Her friend probably had the nerve to make good on whatever violent thoughts were filling her head. “They did that to you?”

“Um, not the last one. I… I was the favourite.” She felt guilty to admit it. She’d escaped the harsher abuse that the other kids had suffered for no reason of her own. Weaver just picked her out and put her on a pedestal. She never understood why. “It was all manipulative, I know that now. But I was young and dumb. I always thought that if I just behaved, if I was just good enough, I could make sure she never treated me as badly as she did the others. I thought that maybe…" Tears were falling down her face now. “Maybe if I was good enough, she’d treat Catra as well as she treated me.”

Glimmer and Bow’s first concern was Adora. She’d started crying out now, sobbing and shaking in a way she’d thought she’d outgrown. For a few minutes she sat there, cradled in her friends’ arms, letting out so many years of bottled grief and anger.

There’d be plenty to unpack in there. How Adora’s perfectionist streak that brought her to the top of everything she tried had never been a Mara-creation, nor something from her parents, but a cruel hold over form Horde. The very fact that, even now, Adora had avoided talking to her closest friends about almost a third of her life for so long. But those were problems for another time. Someone else mattered more now.

Bow asked the obvious question. “If you don’t mind us asking, who’s Catra?”

Hearing her name from Bow’s lips sounded odd. Better perhaps. It didn’t come loaded with the feeling of loss that it had when she said the name. Instead it was new and fresh. The memories that came back weren't of tears but of laughter. They were of the six years where Catra was Adora’s point of safety.

“She was my friend.” That didn’t even begin to cover it. “No, best friend. Soulmate even. We were in the orphanage together and we just… we were everything to each other. I trusted her so much, I loved her so much. I thought nothing would ever pull us apart.” 

It had been so perfect a friendship. All perfect, until it wasn’t.

“Mara’s adoption was dropped on me. She came in the morning and I was gone in the afternoon.” Adora sniffled. An irrational part of her felt like she should be angry at Mara for that. She wasn’t, of course, but a broken piece of here wanted to be. “I barely got to say goodbye. I remember crying when I left. I cried for days, for weeks, for months. But I never saw her again. The last memory I have of her is her bawling on the steps as I went away.”

That was the memory that hurt most of all. Adora’s pain was one thing but Catra’s was another. 

_Guilt._ That was the word. For leaving Catra, for breaking her heart, for taking Mara’s offer of a better life while Catra was left behind. Was it right to blame herself? Probably not. Was it fair? Still no. Did she still do it? More than she’d ever admit. 

“Have you tried looking for her?” Glimmer asked after Adora had stopped crying.

Adora nodded. “I’ve hunted social media so many times in the last few years. I never found her. I even got in touch with some of the kids we used to live with but none of them have seen her in years. She’s just… gone.”

“Have you tried asking at the orphanage?”

“It wouldn’t help. She’d be twenty now. Even if she never got adopted, she wouldn’t have been there for years.” Adora bit her lip. “Plus, I’ve never really been to that part of town. I wouldn’t know where to start and—”

“We could help you," Glimmer suggested. Her eyes lit up, as if the idea of helping Adora was some drug she couldn’t get enough of.

“If you want to, that is," Bow added quickly. “You don’t have to go there if you don’t want to, this is your choice.”

“But whatever you want to do, Bow and I will be there for you. You know we always will.”

Adora wiped her face with her damp sleeve. A tiny smile floated above the pain. “You guys are the best.”

Glimmer hugged her a bit tighter. “We know.”

Bow joined too. “You’d do the same for us.”

For a few moments, she could focus only on her friends so close to her. They really would do anything for her. Adora could never repay them for that. Did Catra have people like that? Had anyone come after Adora and filled that void? Adora didn’t know and that was the worst thing of all. Catra deserved someone like that. She deserved someone who’d go to the ends of the earth to make sure she was okay. Adora had been that person once. If there was even the tiniest chance that she could be that again…

For years she’d avoided that place. Her own trauma had kept her away. Now though, she faced a choice. Square up for Catra’s sake, or keep her distance and lose the final possible shot of reuniting.

“I want to go," she said finally. “I have to try. If there’s even a tiny bit of information that the orphanage can give, it’s worth the… you know.”

“We’ll be right with you," Glimmer assured her.

Adora melted back into her friends’ embrace. Group hugs were a cherished pastime. Friends like Bow and Glimmer were hard to find and were worth any effort to keep. She’d never been one to have many friends growing up but Adora was committed to the ones she had. It had allowed her to help Bow and Glimer through their own troubles these last two years.

That commitment was going to help her find Catra, no matter how hard it might be.

It was past noon by the time Catra found the strength to drive away. Pulling on an oversized hoodie to cover up, she drew the hood up and tried not to glance at anyone as she drove. She’d spent enough time bawling and screaming in her car to be sure that no one that had seen her outburst would still be around, but she couldn’t be too careful. There was nothing to gain from letting strangers see her tear-stained face as she went.

* * *

Anger followed Catra home. At the old woman, at her former boss, at all of them really. All those that could sit there and just live a normal life without having to deal with so much pent up, unresolved garbage as she did. 

Weaver had been right. Hordak had been right. All of the cruel kids and abusive foster families had all been right. Catra was nothing. She never would be. She’d come from nothing, achieved nothing, and was going nowhere. 

She hated herself all the more for her little firing stunt. She could imagine the stories the customers would tell of seeing such a pathetic scene for such a deadbeat woman.

None of them understood. No one knew what it was like for her. No one she’d met had ever known what it meant to grow up the way she had, to have seen the things she’d seen. If they had everything and everyone stacked against them from the moment they were born, they wouldn’t turn out much better, would they? 

And that only made it worse. A part of her knew this wasn’t really her fault. She’d tried, especially when she was younger, to be better. She tried the smiling, the laughing, the protecting, and the naivety. It had only gotten her burned. Now it had been broken out of her, too literally in some cases. Weaver and Hordak and all the others hadn’t just been right, they’d _won._ Catra couldn’t even claim ownership of her own failures. She was just walking the path every abuser had already known she’d end up down. 

No one had believed in her, no one had her back, no one stuck around. They all knew she wasn’t worth it. Catra was only proving them right.

She dreaded what Scorpia would say. Catra was fully expecting to spend the night, and every night after, somewhere else now. Scorpia couldn’t put up with her forever and this had to be the line. That woman’s patience couldn’t be infinite. She’d cast Catra aside just like everyone else. Scorpia had tried too, Catra knew that. Scorpia had honestly tried and that made her feel so much worse. Scorpia had tried and Catra had failed, like always. Sometimes she swore she preferred the idea of Weaver’s outright hostility to the thin illusion of true support. Just imagining the hopeful expression melting away on Scorpia’s face, giving way to anger, disappointment, and scorn was enough to risk breaking her right there behind the wheel.

It was all a mess. It’d always been a mess. It always would be. 

A vulnerable part of her yearned for something better. Catra couldn’t stop drifting to the handful of happy, if retroactively tarnished, memories of Adora. The one person that had, for a time at least, come close to understanding her. It had ended the same way everything else in her life had ended; Catra, broken and in tears, without a soul in the world to care about it.

Catra dug her nails into the steering wheel. She bet Adora never had any of this. When that bitch of an adopter gave Adora the chance for escape, Adora had taken it without a look back. Now the girl was probably far away from here, soaring through some happy life because she’d always gotten what she’d wanted. Adora was always the favourite. Adora was the one that got Weaver’s care, Adora was the one that the families wanted, Adora was the popular kid everyone wanted to hang around with, Adora was the girl all the kids had fawned over. Never Catra. She was only ever the side-kick, the background noise, the price you had to pay to be around Little Miss Perfect.

It still infuriated her. What Adora got handed to her on a silver platter, Catra had dangled in her face and torn away, replaced by a fist to her jaw and knife in her back. 

Maybe Adora had learned her lesson by now. Maybe she’d learned to just expect the world to roll over for her. Maybe Adora had been smarter than Catra was, because God knew Catra was still too stupid. Life never gave her anything, and every time she was stupid enough to think it did, it would get taken away. 

Catra promised herself this would be the last time. Then again, when had she ever kept any promise? It was another fruitless exercise, trying to gain some control over the train whose wheels were already off the tracks and barrelling over the edge.

Somehow, she made it back to Scorpia’s house. Perfuma’s car was still parked there too. _Wonderful, a fucking audience._

Maybe Scorpia already knew. Maybe she’d already dumped Catra’s things out of the window, even changed the locks to keep her out. Catra wouldn’t blame her. Honestly, saving her the embarrassment of a face-to-face conversation would be better.

Of course, Catra wasn’t so lucky. She climbed out of the car and tried the door. It let her in without a second-thought.

Scorpia and Perfuma were sitting in the living room. They both turned as the door opened, surprised to see Catra back in the middle of the day. Entrapta was still here too - _fucking great_ \- but didn’t lift her head from whatever chaos she was wreaking on the house’s roomba.

“Hey, wild cat.” Scorpio glanced at her watch. “You’re back early. Did Derek let you off? No offense, but you look like you need it. Tired, I mean. You don’t look bad, you never look bad. Very pretty actually. Did I ever tell you that?”

Catra had no patience for Scorpia’s ramblings and even less for conversation.

Like always, vulnerable Catra had been tucked away somewhere hidden for now. Defensive, deflective, abrasive Catra came out for everyone else.

“You could say that," she mumbled, heading to the kitchen for some coffee. She really was too much of a coward for this, wasn’t she?

Scorpia’s ever optimistic facel it up. “Awh, that’s great. You get some rest, okay? Let us know if you need anything.”

Catra didn’t answer. She set the coffee machine, grabbed a mug, and made a point of not looking in Scorpia’s direction.

“Huh, it’s funny," Scorpia kept going, “I’ve never known Derek to give people days off like that.”

Perfuma wasn’t as naïve. “Um, Scorpia?" she interrupted gently. She knew exactly what had happened.

“Eh, don't want to tempt fate. We’ll just make sure you never turn up to work drunk again, okay?”

“Yeah," Catra murmured pathetically, “it won’t happen again.” The machine clicked and Catra filled the mug, taking a bitter, unsweetened sip.

She heard Scorpia get up from the couch. “That’s great! I’m so proud of you.”

That was the thing that crossed the line. _Pride._ No one in her life had ever been proud of her. Now though? Right now, with everything that had happened, it wasn’t welcome. It was the final twist of the knife, the final assurance that Catra had fucked things up beyond repair. 

“I got fired, okay?" It slipped out quietly. Pathetically.

Scorpia froze. Perfuma winced, a horrid look of pity and sadness. A cruel silence hung between them. Catra watched as Scorpia’s face went through expressions of confusion, acceptance, and then disappointment. Anger had to come next right?

“Huzzah!," Entrapta yelled out suddenly and held up the roomba like it was the Holy Grail. “Emily’s working again. I knew it was just a case of-," she trailed off. “Oh, was that not an appropriate time?”

“No, it wasn’t," Catra bit. “Well done, genius.” 

Scorpia took a cautious step around the couch and towards the kitchen. “Catra, I—”

“I don’t want to hear it, Scorpia. I really don’t.” Nothing the woman could say would be something Catra hadn’t already told herself. _Useless, worthless, failure, pathetic, disaster, disappointment, waste._

“Well, uh, maybe he didn’t mean it?”

“Oh, he meant it alright. Trust me.” Catra had to laugh sardonically. “Besides, I made sure he’d never want to hire me again anyway.”

“I’m sorry, Catra.”

“No!” Catra raised a finger at Scorpia, almost hissing through her teeth. “I don’t want your fucking pity. I’m sick of it.”

“Catra," Perfuma admonished. The girl has risen from the couch and come to Scopria’s side. “We’re your friends, we just want to help you.”

“No, it’s my life. It’s mine to screw up, not yours. You’re not my parents so just leave me alone!” 

_You’ll be leaving like them soon enough anyway._

“I-I- I’d just hoped that—”

“That was your mistake, wasn’t it?” Catra’s voice broke. It was weak. Pathetic. “You should know better than to hope for anything from me. Everyone else figured that out a long time ago.”

They couldn’t respond to that. It was one of the few things Catra wasn’t wrong about. 

No one stopped her from disappearing into her room. None of them tried some weak or hollow protest against the truth. 

Alone, Catra curled up on her bed. Vulnerable Catra crawled out of her hiding hole and took over. She cried into the evening, like she had so many times before.

* * *

They found the address online. A secret part of Adora had hoped the orphanage had closed in the last few years, wiping the awful place from the earth and sparing so many other kids the years of pain there. 

Her pulse quickened as the streets became more familiar. Panic seeped in and shallowed out her breathing, made her sweat and fidget, and poured doubt into her thoughts.

_Why are you doing this? This was a stupid idea? You’ll never find her. Catra is gone. Leave this place and never come back._

The final turning passed by almost unnoticed. The sight of the Bright Moon House of Residence for Minors crashed into her immediately after.

It looked identical. A grimy stone two storey building with a dozen windows spread out across each floor of its facade. The grass out front was a little overgrown, patchy in places, clearly unkempt. The dirty stone steps that Adora remembered all too well had been cracked and worn by the years with no sign of repair. A few windows were open around the building. Any hope of this place truly being abandoned were dashed.

_You’re doing this for Catra_ , she told herself. _Catra’s worth the effort._

Bow pulled up down the street and turned the engine off. Glimmer turned around, reaching a hand back to hold Adora’s. “Do you want us to go in with you?" she asked.

Adora had considered it. Having Bow and Glimmer there would be helpful, but this was something she wasn’t quite ready to share. Only Catra had ever understood this place like Adora had. She trusted her new friends immensely, but this was something she had to do alone.

“I’ll be okay. I need to do this.” 

“We understand. Glimmer and I will be here, okay? Take as much time as you need.”

Adora stepped out of the car and took a deep, bracing breath.

_You’re free of this place, Adora. You’re here now because you chose to be. It didn’t make you stay. It can never make you do anything again._

Still, Adora hugged herself as she walked up the street. She slowed to gaze up at the building. Tiny, unfamiliar faces peered out from a few of the windows. Memories flashed before her eyes.

—— 

_“Catra," Adora pleaded, pulling her back from the window. “You’re going to get us in trouble.”_

_Her friend paid her no mind, shaking her off and grabbing a water balloon. “I’ll hide before they see me, duh! You’re such a scaredy-cat, Adora.”_

_Adora stamped her feet. “Am not!”_

_“Are too," Catra replied._

_She huffed. Did Catra really think she was a scaredy cat? Adora wasn’t a scaredy cat. She could prove it._

_Without thinking, Adora grabbed the water balloon from Catra’s hand, leaned out the second-story window, and threw it at the passer-by. The stranger, a middle-aged man in a fancy suit screamed as the balloon exploded over him._

_Catra broke into a laughing fit. Adora giggled but quickly stopped when she spotted a shadow in the door._

_“Catra! What did you do?” Mrs Weaver rushed in, grabbing Catra by the arm a little too tightly._

_“Owww! I didn’t do anything!” Adora recognised the sound of Catra fighting back tears._

_“Liar!" Weaver snapped. “You dare lie to me, child!”_

_“She’s not lying…." Adora shrunk into herself. Weaver’s withering gaze bore into her. “It- it was me.”_

_Weaver’s face twisted into confusion. Adora expected shouting, an angry hand dragging her to a quiet room to be locked into for a few hours. That was what happened with Catra every time._

_Instead, Weaver’s face hardened into anger and went back to Catra again. “What did you make her do?”_

_“W-what I didn’t do anything!”_

_“Enough!” Weaver stood up, tugging Catra across the room. “You can waste your life but I will not allow you to waste Adora’s. Come with me.”_

_Adora said nothing as Catra was dragged away. Their eyes met, blue with mismatched teal and yellow, with Catra pleading silently for help. Like usual, Adora didn’t._

—— 

Adora blinked, back in the present.

She’d been staring up for a while now. Some kids were snickering and pointing through the window. Who knew what they were thinking about the stranger gawking at them from the street? 

The short path from the sidewalk to the door seemed so much longer. The building loomed above her, its door like a trap waiting to swallow her up again. Once again, Catra pulled her out of it. Adora’s eyes fell to the steps and she refused to let herself fall into that particular memory. She needed to focus, for Catra's sake.

Up the steps, her fist hovered on the wooden door. It was still cracked in the same place above the letterbox. Of course it hadn’t been repaired. She knocked twice, firmly and loudly.

It was a while before anyone answered. Adora knew to expect that. However, she’d only been half-expecting the person that would answer.

“Can I help you?" Weaver asked, suspicion dripping from her voice.

Adora was stunned for a moment. The woman, despite everything, was still here and had barely changed. Her long black hair was showing the faintest signs of greying at the roots, but the woman’s uncompromising icy stare was unchanged. Even her stance, the way she lifted her head and steepled her fingers as she spoke down to you was identical.

Adora swallowed, unconsciously straightening the posture and making sure not to mumble. “Mrs Weaver, I—”

“Wait.” Weaver looked her up and down. An unpleasant smile invaded the woman’s mouth. “Adora? Is that you?”

“Yeah, it’s me," she answered meekly. “Um, how are you?”

Weaver pulled open the door and pulled Adora into a cold, loveless hug. “It’s so wonderful to see you. You’ve grown into a fine young woman.”

She made a point of not returning the hug. “Yeah, it’s been a while.”

Weaver pulled back. Like always, she was oblivious to Adora’s discomfort. “Come in, come in. We can speak in my office.”

It smelled the same. The dismal mix of damp, dust, and dastardly children hung in the air. The stairs hadn’t had a new carpet fitted either. On the landing above, a few children peered through the balustrades, like inmates of a prison eager to see the new visitor. Adora knew all too well how accurate that analogy was.

Adora followed Weaver to the left door, into the adult corridor she’d seen so few times growing up. It wasn’t half as fascinating now as it had been then. It was just a few office rooms, a storage closet, a boiler room, and at the end, Weaver’s office.

The day Mara adopted her had been the only time she set foot in here. A confused Adora had been dragged out of breakfast to find the nice woman she’d spent a day with the other week smiling at her. Adora the orphan has gone into that room, but she’d left with a new mother and a new grandmother. She’d gained two family members, but in the process she’d lost another.

It hadn’t changed at all. Weaver wasn’t one for decorating. A bland wooden desk with chairs set out on either side. Bookcases lined the walls, stacked with folders, files, and papers marked with legal codes and labels Adora couldn’t begin to decipher. The blinds were shut on the lone window behind Weaver’s desk, allowing only tiny cracks of natural light in. The lamp on Weaver’s desk was all the woman wanted.

Weaver sat in the chair behind her desk. “Take a seat. I’m eager to hear how things have been.” 

Timidly, Adora sat down. Her back was rigid and she didn’t cross her legs. Old habits were stirring just in the woman’s presence.

“How have you been, Adora? How is Mara?” 

There was a hint of dissatisfaction with the last name. Adora could understand why now. Mara had taken Weaver’s favoured trophy from her. That must have made her angry. How much of that anger was taken out on Catra?

Adora knew the answer was too much.

“Mara is well," Adora nodded, keeping as measured as possible. “I am too. I’m in my second year at BMU, medieval history major. I’m on the football team too. Off to nationals this summer.”

She didn’t know what she was trying to prove. Maybe that, despite everything life had put her through, Adora wasn’t a total disaster? Or was it some attempt to feel satisfied, to feel superior, that maybe Adora’s life was going better than Weaver’s? It wasn’t because she felt the need to live up to whatever expectations Weaver had for her. Definitely not, right?

“That is wonderful to hear. I always knew you’d go far and I was right. You were always destined for greatness, not like so many of the others here.”

She knew what that comment was meant to imply. Adora and Catra had been a package deal. You didn’t get one without the other. Any thought of Adora had to have reminded Weaver of Catra too.

“Oh, um, thanks.” Adora almost stopped to apologize for mumbling. _No, she’s not in charge anymore. Don’t let her think she is._ “Actually, I came here for a reason. I wanted to ask about Catra.”

The name filled Weaver with revulsion. She scrunched up her nose and tutted. “Oh yes, I remember that girl.” Her voice oozed disdain. “Why would you come to me about her?”

“I’ve been trying to find her. I’d hoped you might know something about where she is.” 

“Catra has been out of my care for a few years. I don’t know where she is.” Weaver looked back at Adora, steepling her fingers once again. “Even if I did know, I am legally not allowed to share such information so casually.”

_Oh, now she cares about doing things right?_ “But it’s me. I’m not a stranger to her.”

Weaver rose with a sigh and went to one of the bookcases. “Like I said, I don’t know where she is. The last time I saw her was on her eighteenth birthday. She was waltzing off into a stranger’s car, shouting expletives and giving lewd gestures back at me on the doorstep. That girl was a menace.”

Adora stifled a giggle. It was Catra alright. _Her_ Catra.

The anecdote did give Adora an answer to one question though.

“So Catra didn’t get adopted?" she asked tentatively.

Weaver thumbed through files for a moment. She stopped on one and withdrew it. An old black file with a well-worn spine had been shoved out of view. Catra’s name was written in plain black ink.

“On the contrary, she was adopted.” The older woman sat down. “Multiple times in fact.” 

Adora blinked. “I don’t understand, I-- “

The black-haired woman opened the file and began going through. “Five times to be precise.”

Adora paused for a second, eyeing Weaver cautiously. “What happened to not being able to tell me anything?”

Weaver laughed. “Frankly, Adora, I doubt you could do any worse things to her life than that girl will have done to herself by now.” She kept reading through, going past disciplinary reports, adoption papers, and admittance papers. “The same thing happened each time. A new family would offer her a chance and she’d squander it. Catra always had trouble valuing things, no matter how hard I tried to instill it in her. Instead, she ended up back here. Some people are just beyond help.”

Adora couldn’t get a good look at everything within, but along with Weaver’s explanation, it was enough to piece things together. Catra had been adopted but returned… _five times_. As soon as she’d been old enough, Catra had walked away and never looked back.

“Is there anything you can tell me about where she is now?”

“As I said, I don’t know. I do not care to know. Neither should you.” Weaver shut the file and looked Adora in the eye. “Adora, you are a successful, wonderful young woman, like I always knew you would become. You have a bright future ahead of you. For your own sake, do not risk it by allowing Catra to drag you down. People like her will never go anywhere, will never do anything, and only ever corrupt what good things we try to give them. You’d be wiser to move on and leave Catra to stumble down her own path.”

That was too far. Adora stood up, startling the old crone. “Well, thank you, Mrs Weaver, but I can make my own decisions now.”

A deep, unamused, almost-growl escaped Weaver’s throat. “I see Catra’s stubbornness hasn’t quite been wiped away from you.”

“I guess you weren’t as good at breaking us as you thought.”

Adora didn’t dignify Weaver with a farwell. She marched out the office, letting the door slam just a bit too loudly. The bleary-eyed staff didn’t interrupt her as she walked away. This place still chilled her to the bone, still got under her skin in ways Adora wasn’t proud of, but she did have to walk out on Weaver with a final parting blow, minor as it was, and slam the door in her face was still a childhood fantasy come true.

_If only Catra had been there to see it._

The victory lost its sweetness. It hadn’t been a victory, not really. The drop of satisfaction from one-upping Weaver was nothing next to the news on Catra. Weaver didn’t know where Catra was now. No one did. She could be in Bright Moon, she could be half-way across the world, she could be anywhere at all.

Other facts weighed on her too. Catra had escaped this place a few times, but that honestly sounded worse. Five different families had taken her in, and five different families had turned her out again. Adora couldn't count how many times her and Catra had laid awake dreaming of their perfect life when they were adopted by the same family. It had been a stupid dream. Adora had gotten her happy life, or mostly happy life, but Catra hadn’t. Catra had been left behind, tossed between homes and people before being dumped right back where she’d started.

It wasn’t fair. Adora had gotten a caring home, so why couldn’t Catra have it too? Weaver would blame Catra, of course, but there was no way it was her fault. Catra wasn’t like that. Sure, she could be abrasive and disobedient, but they were kids. It wasn’t the sort of thing you’d abandon a child over, was it?

_Her parents walked out. Why not the others?_

Adora pushed that thought away. Catra wasn’t a victim of fate. Just because she’d suffered once, she wouldn’t be condemned to it forever.

Except that seemed to be what happened. For six years between Adora leaving and reaching adulthood, Catra had chance after chance at a better life ripped away from her, all while Adora was in Sileneas, living as normal a life as she could with Mara and Razz. 

This time, Adora looked back at the steps. The tiny Catra in tears on the floor meshed with the defiant image Weaver had told her about, of a young woman finally free, throwing caution to the wind and saying goodbye to something that had brought her nothing but pain. Adora, like Catra, was never coming back here now.

But that, more than anything, was the worst part. Horde has been her only lead, her final option, the last resort to finding Catra. Now there was nothing. Not a name, not a place, not a soul that could help Adora track her down.

Catra was gone. Not tucked away in some place and maybe found again. Catra was just gone. She’d hopped in a stranger’s car and disappeared from this place, just like Adora had. 

In a twisted way, Weaver was getting her wish. Adora was never going to find Catra, never going to chase her down and try to fulfill the promise she’d made eight years ago.

It was over. Done. A chapter closed. Unfulfilled, raw, a permanent loose end, never to be continued. 

When Adora climbed back into the car, the look on her face must have given it away.

“Nothing?" Bow asked.

Adora shook her head. “It was a stupid idea anyway.”

Glimmer reached back. “Adora, don’t say that.”

She shied away from the touch and leaned her head against the window. “Let’s just… let’s just go. I can’t stand this place anymore.”

Once again, Adora watched the orphanage slip out of view from the rear window. This time she could at least be honest about never seeing Catra again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, rereading this: yeah, I think I’ve joined the ‘gets a kick out of mercilessly abusing their favourite characters’ club.
> 
> Also Catra is obviously a mess in this story. I probably don’t need to tell you that I don’t endorse most of her behaviour but I’ll say it just in case. I’m morally obligated to say don’t drink and drive either. Catra was very bad for that.
> 
> Next chapter: Adora’s friends try to cheer her up while Catra’s try to get through to her. They end up with very similar ideas...


	3. Old Wounds Can Still Bleed

The week drifted by in a haze. Adora was off her game, unfocused in class and on the pitch. It was like her energy had been sapped away, leaving her directionless and empty as she went through the dull motions of life.

Coach Micah noticed. Professor Spella noticed. Even Principal Angela noticed, and Adora had only been in the room with her for a second. Cracks were showing, and Adora hated it.

She’d always strived for perfection. Anything less felt wrong. Worse still, it only reminded her more of Catra. Weaver never expected anything less than perfection and young Adora had always thought that, if she was good enough, she could please Weaver enough for her to leave Catra alone. It never worked, obviously, but she’d tried. The perfectionist streak she still had was, ultimately, down to that. Maybe it was time for Adora to lose her grip on it now, just as she lost Catra.

Adora groaned into her pillow. She hadn’t had a minute where she didn’t think of Catra all week. It was dismal.

“Adora?” Glimmer’s soft, gentle voice carried through the door. Friday was usually their movie night but, once again, Adora was clearly not up to it “Can I come in?”

Adora didn’t answer for a while. Part of her wanted to say no. Part of her wanted to shut herself away. It was memories of Catra that stopped her.

—— 

_ “Go away!” Adora ran inside their shared room and tugged a blanket over her head. There was no lock, so her roommate could walk right in seconds later. “I said, GO AWAY!” _

_ Adora hoped the blanket covered her sobs. She didn’t want anyone to see her cry, especially the stranger she was going to be sharing a room with. _

_ “Adora, right? I’m Catra.” The other girl’s voice was unsure. “I’m… I’m sorry. For what happened. I don’t know what it is for you but everyone here has something bad. We wouldn’t be here if we didn’t.” _

_ Adora sobbed again. A weight came on the mattress beside her. _

_ “Go… go away," Adora sniffled. It wasn’t a strong warning. “I don’t want to talk about it.” _

_ “We… um, we don’t have to. If you want to, we can, but if you don’t… I won’t make you.” The honesty in the girl’s voice made Adora hesitate. “I don’t like to talk about my parents. I guess... I guess we’re the same like that.” _

_ At last, Adora lifted the blanket over her head. Through tears she stared at the brown-haired girl whose mismatched eyes danced between Adora and the ground. _

_ “Your mom and dad are gone too?” _

_ Catra nodded sadly. “Mhm.” _

_ Adora blinked. “But… you’re not… sad about it?” _

_ It might have been the wrong thing to say. Maybe. _

_ “I am sad sometimes. But not all the time.” Catra looked at her, half-smiling through the pain. “I can’t… um… I can’t bring them back, but… we could be friends. Maybe it’ll be easier not to be sad like that.” _

_ For the first time since she’d lost her parents, Adora had found someone who wanted to help. Not the scary doctors or the government workers, but someone who was nice and her age and knew what it was like to lose the people that meant the most to you. _

_ “I’d like that.” Adora swallowed back a mess of salty tears, snot, and pain. “Friends, I mean.” _

_ The smile she got back was the first bit of happiness Adora had felt in months. _

—— 

“Adora, are you awake?” Glimmer knocked again. She muttered something quietly and it sounded like she took a few steps back.

“Glimmer, wait,” Adora called, her voice quiet. “You can come in.”

This whole thing had started because Adora had been reminded of Catra and found that she’d lost that friend for good. What sense would it make for Adora to shut out the other friends she had now?

Glimmer sat down at the foot of her bed. “Hey, how are you feeling?” 

“Like shit.” Adora sat up and pulled her legs up to her chest. 

Glimmer put a hand on Adora’s knee. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“What’s the point? She’s gone. I’ll never find her now.”

Glimmer couldn’t argue that. She bristled in place, trying to think of the words. “Look, I know the Catra stuff is awful, but sitting around here all day isn’t going to help you. How about we do something to take your mind off things? Anything’s better than, uh, this.” She pointed non-specifically at Adora curled up in the bed.

Adora looked away. “I’m not really feeling like a movie night or take our or anything like that.”

“No, nothing like that. I’ve been thinking, there’s a new club on the other side of town. Maybe tomorrow night we could all go and check it out.”

“Clubbing?” Adora arched an eyebrow. “I thought you knew me better than that.”

“It’s not a rough place. It’s laid-back, from what I hear. Maybe we could all go there - you, me, Bow, Seahawk and Mermista, Netossa and Spinarella - make it a night to remember. How long has it been since we all hung out? Weeks?”

Adora wasn’t a ‘night out’ person. She’d take an evening in with a movie and some take out over headache-inducing music and copious amounts of alcohol in some grimy nightclub. Not to mention all of the crowds or the awful attempts by drunk frat boys to hit on her. Most didn’t care enough to listen that they really, really weren’t her type. 

“I don’t know.”

“Come on, it’ll be nice to hang out with everyone. You can’t just wallow in here forever.”

“I probably could.”

“I won’t let you then.” Glimmer leaned over, leaning a bit of her body weight on Adora’s legs. “Please, I promise you’ll feel better.”

Glimmer’s damn earnest moods were rarer than Bow’s but no easier to resist. “Alright, fine. I’ll go,” Adora conceded, if only because she didn’t have the energy to argue.

Glimmer beamed, pulling Adora into a hug. “I knew it would work. The others are already okay with it.”

“You planned it already?”

“A lot of people noticed you haven’t been okay, Adora. We’re your friends and we want to help you, however we can.”

Adora smiled, weakly but honestly, and drew Glimmer into a hug. Catra might be gone, but Adora was lucky enough to have other people to call on. She’d never stop appreciating that.

* * *

Day after day blended together. Catra would wake up, lie in bed, and go to sleep when the sun stopped forcing its annoying light through her curtains.

She'd screwed up. Badly. She'd screwed up so badly that she was afraid to leave the house, fearing she'd come home to find the locks changed and her stuff piled on the lawn. It didn’t seem like a ‘Scorpia’ thing to do, but Catra knew better than to give the benefit of the doubt.

Why would Scorpia wait this long anyway? Catra wasn't her problem. At least, she shouldn't be, and was only a problem so long as Scorpia kept her in the house. The woman was probably just too polite to kick her out. Any sane person would have thrown her out days ago. It hadn't taken Lonnie half as long after their big fight. Yet still, Scorpia said and did nothing about it, and Entrapta and Perfuma didn’t chew her out either.

It was pushing past five in the evening when Catra's stomach forced her to hunt for something to eat. Aside from just not feeling in the mood to eat lately, she was careful not to run down her stocks too quickly. The food she had here wouldn't last forever but it had to keep her going until Scorpia kicked her out. If the woman waited much longer, Catra would have to start rationing.

She didn't think Scorpia was home. There'd been no noise loud enough to overpower her music at least, which was usually a good sign.

So when Catra opened her door to find Scorpia, a tray of soup and tea in her hand, coming across the corridor, it was enough to make Catra jump.

"Fucking christ, Scorpia!" she yelped, almost stumbling back through the doorway.

"Oh, Catra! I am so sorry, um..." The woman looked around nervously, unsure where to put the tray. "I should have been louder or warned or—”

"Jeez, it's fine." Catra looked at her feet, absently rubbing her arm. "I didn't know you were home."

"Yeah, sorry about that. I was trying to be quiet. Didn't want to disturb you, you know." A few awkward beats of silence passed before Scorpia remembered the tray in her hands. "Oh, I made you this. I didn't know if you wanted it but..."

Catra looked at the tray. Some soup with wisps of steam rising out, a thick slice of bread, and a warm mug of some herbal tea. None of it was from Catra's own food supplies.

She looked at the woman's face now, trying to discern what exactly was going on inside her head. The food was obviously a gesture of kindness, but why? Why was Scorpia still being nice to her? Catra was nothing but a menace, a burden, a problem like Weaver had always said. Why couldn't Scorpia see that?

"I mean, if you don't want it, it's fine," Scorpia said quickly, "I don't want to impose or—” 

"Why are you doing this?" It had been on Catra's mind for so long now. "I don't want you to start pitying me all the time. I hate pity."

Scorpia seemed almost confused. "I'm not pitying you. I'm helping because that's what friends do. I want you to be okay."

_ Friends. _ Catra wasn't so stupid as to not have applied that word to them before. Catra would even choose to use it herself. She liked Scorpia, but she couldn't fathom why Scorpia liked her back. Or Entrapta. Perfuma at least had the excuse of being Scorpia's girlfriend, but even that girl’s sincerity wasn't something that could be faked; Catra had seen feigned care enough to tell it apart. 

There was a distant, unspoken thought at the back of her mind, faintly familiar. The idea that Scorpia and the others were really there for her, really on her side and never leaving it. It was nonsense, of course. No one really cared, everyone left - they were two simple truths Catra had seen time and time again. Now, staring at Scorpia, she could see an echo of the look she'd seen on Adora a thousand times:  _ I care about you. Let me in. I want you to be okay.  _

It terrified her. Catra knew what waited for her if she let herself stumble any farther down this path. So she did the only thing that made sense.

"Well you shouldn't," Catra said, turning away from her. "I can look after myself.” 

She went to retreat into her room, but Scorpia just stood in the doorway, not letting her run from this.

"You're not getting away so easily, wildcat."

"What do you want from me, Scorpia?"

"I want you to get better." There was a lot more meaning behind that than Catra losing her job. After so many months living together, Scorpia obviously knew that losing that Target gig was barely the tip of the iceberg. 

Catra just laughed dryly. "I don't think that's going to happen."

"At least let us try."  _ Us _ . Of course Scorpia would wrap Entrapta and Perfuma up in all this. "All of us are worried about you. We're not going to stop until we can help you get back on your feet."

Why did Scorpia have to be so goddamn sincere about this? It was only going to hurt both of them more when she gave up. Scorpia wasn’t like most of the others - not like Weaver or Hordak… or Adora. Scorpia meant well and wasn’t in this to screw with Catra or use her for her own ends. Scorpia’s mistake was trying. Eventually, she’d throw in the towel like the others, but it wouldn’t be malicious or self-centred like the ones that came before. Catra was just beyond her help. Catra wasn’t even sure she’d be angry at Scorpia when that time came. At this point, Catra knew to just blame herself.

"It's not healthy for you to stay inside," Scorpia continued, a sudden authoritative tone in her voice. "This weekend we're getting you out of the house for a bit."

Catra rolled her eyes. She’d had this invite before and her muscles had never forgiven her. "I'm not going to the gym with you, Scorpia. Your weights would break me." 

“I wasn't going to say gym. I meant something nice, something friends can do. Maybe a movie."

"Nothing good is out. Not to mention it’s expensive."

"Don't worry about money, Catra."

"Tough."

Scorpia shook her head but smiled anyway. "Dinner? Entrapta loves this taco place across town and has been dying to show us.” 

Catra’s senses perked up at that. Tacos were her favourite…  _ No, don’t. Don’t ruin tacos by tying them up in this mess. You’ll need some clean memories when you lose these guys too. _

"Scorpia, no."

Scorpia’s eyes went wide. “Got it! Girl's night out. We’ll dress up, grab some drinks, dancing. That cheers everyone up. I hear there's a new bar across town, Light Spinner's or something, that people have been raving to me about."

That idea... didn't fill Catra with an immediate revulsion. Alcohol was one of the few things Catra could count on, and she'd been deprived of it for days now when she'd sorely needed it. Crowds also meant melting into them, hiding away from the attention and becoming another faceless stranger. Plus loud music was a great excuse not to have any serious conversation. 

Besides, she could count on forgetting the night if it went too poorly. 

"If I agree, will you leave me alone?"

Scorpia's face lit up. "You'll come? That's great!"

"Will you leave me alone for a bit if I do?" she asked again.

"Oh, yeah, sure. Whatever you want." Scorpia set the tray down on Catra's desk and trapped her in a hug before she could escape. "I promise, you'll love it."

Catra extricated herself from the hug as quickly as she could. "Fine, fine, whatever. Can I have some peace now?"

"Right, right." Disappointed, Scorpia stepped back through the door. "Have a good night. I'll just be next door if—” 

"Good night, Scorpia." 

Scorpia nodded and pulled the door shut. Catra glanced at the tray on her desk, and her stomach growled. 

It wasn't an awful offer, she told herself, unsure if she meant the food or the club. She could at least enjoy it while she could. It would fill a hole at least. Besides, how bad could it be?

* * *

Saturday night rolled around and Adora was nearly ready. She had a cute red dress she’d not had cause to wear yet. Slipping it on and doing up her hair did give her a little swell of excitement. It didn’t stop the lingering pain over Catra, but it was a glimmer of light in an otherwise dismal week.

"Adora," Glimmer chimed through the door, "I would say we'd leave without you. but we love you, so we'll just complain instead."

"Awh, you're the best.”

"But seriously, come on," Glimmer dragged out the last word. 

Adora finished up with a necklace around her neck. It had been a gift from Razz for her birthday, a sword-shaped pendant necklace to fit her major. She'd treasure it for the rest of her life, and not just because it went with pretty much anything.

When she finally emerged, purse in hand, her heart lightened to see all of her friends spruced up and waiting. When Glimmer had suggested this a few nights ago, Adora had been hesitant. Now, seeing all her friends together, she couldn’t believe she’d considered refusing. 

The usual exchange of compliments ensued. Glimmer in her favourite purple, Spinarella and Netossa in matching attire, and Mermista in her ever-cool suit, dress pants, and fedora that she refused to let the neckbeards keep a claim over. Sea Hawk and Bow stood aside awkwardly, keys in hand as the group's designated drivers.

"Frosta was telling us great stuff about this place," Glimmer explained as everyone gathered up their things.

"Isn't she, like, twelve or something?" Mermista asked.

"She's sixteen I think," Bow corrected.

"Still too young." 

Adora laughed. "It's Frosta, when have rules ever concerned that girl?"

“Right,” Glimmer clapped her hands together. “Are we ready? Good. The sooner we go, the more likely we can grab a table before it gets full.”

"Onwards to adventure!" Sea Hawk cried, earning a gentle whack in the arm from his girlfriend. "Right, sorry."

"Oh that's right," Adora observed as they went out the door, "I'm seventh-wheeling."

It was bad enough third-wheeling with Glimmer and Bow sometimes. Spinarella and Netossa weren't too obnoxiously affectionate in front of the group, so it had been manageable before. Now with Mermista and Sea Hawk hitched up, it left Adora as the odd one out.

"This is what we meant by getting you a nice girl," Bow said, speaking like a father that had just been proven right. "We need an eighth wheel to our little party."

"Can we please talk about literally anything else?”

"Girl, you're a treasure. You'll find someone," Netossa assured. "I'll wingwoman you tonight if you want."

Adora folded her arms. "I'm not looking for someone, guys. I won't be tricked into a date again."

Memories of a botched attempt by Glimmer and Bow to set her up with a girl last year made her cringe. It had taken Adora twenty minutes to realise that Glimmer and Bow hadn't accidentally given her the wrong table number and that the girl already sitting at that table wasn't just being polite by making conversation.

"It was funny though," Bow said.

Glimmer playfully hit his arm. "Bow! We're not here to terrorise Adora.”

"Yeesh, I know, I know. I wasn't going to try anything.."

"You better not," Adora warned as they split between the two cars. 

Adora and Glimmer went with Bow, while the others piled in with Sea Hawk. Bow and Sea Hawk exchanged directions one last time, directions Adora knew would probably be forgotten by the other car as soon as they set off. 

She managed to hold onto the warmth and laughter as they pulled away. Glimmer and Bow sang along with the music as they drove, hyping themselves up for the night. Adora wasn't quite ready for that, but she could appreciate her friends being in a good mood. 

The more unpleasant thoughts of whether Catra had nights like this didn't completely control her mind. They were there, sure, but they didn't take over everything. Maybe by the night's end she could have a minute free of them.

* * *

Perfuma parked a few blocks away from Light Spinner’s. Catra stepped out of the car, pulling her leather jacket a bit tighter around herself. Ripped jeans were probably a bit cold for tonight, but combat boots were sensible. How Scorpia and Perfuma were enduring this cold in dresses, she had no clue. 

“I’ve been preparing for this for days!” Entrapta started rambling as they walked up the street “I’ve never had a chance to study such unusual social interaction before. I’ll have piles of notes to go over. It’ll be fascinating.”

Entrapta hadn’t even dressed up for this, just in her usual grubby overalls. Catra wasn’t going to question her though. Entrapta didn’t pry into Catra’s life, and Catra didn’t do it back. Catra liked Entrapta well enough just the way she was.

“I’m glad you’re excited, Entrapta.” Scorpia caught Catra’s eye as they walked. “What about you, wildcat? You pumped?”

She gave an unenthusiastic shrug. “Sure. As long as there’s something to drink then it’s good enough for me.”

“Optimism, I like it.”

It wasn’t the word Catra would use, but Scorpia was Scorpia. It was easier to let her think as she pleased than try to nail her down with reality. 

When they got in sight of Light Spinner’s, it seemed like half the city had turned out for it.

“Oh damn, that’s a big queue," Scorpia said as they approached.

Entrapta practically leaped into the air. “Ooooh, this will be perfect. I can get a full range of analyses for pre-intoxication and pre-nightclub behaviours. This will be very productive.” She pulled a pen from somewhere _ ,  _ flipped open a notepad, and rushed off into the distance before she could be stopped.

“No, wait, Entrapta!” Perfuma let out a sigh a few seconds later. “She’ll be okay, she’ll be okay. Entrapta will be fine.”

“Yeah," Catra shrugged, “maybe. As long as she didn’t bring her scalpel for these subjects, she’ll be fine.” Absently, Catra rubbed the tiny scar on her elbow, recalling her own experience with Entrapta’s scalpel. 

They queued up together, joining the back of a depressingly long line of college students hitting the town on a Friday night. They were Catra’s age, give or take a couple years, but she found college students insufferably juvenile. Most of them had never had any hardship in their life. They bounced from high school to college, thinking their next test was the most difficult thing in the world. These naive kids hadn’t been forced through the crucible Catra had.

It was just another thing to put distance between Catra and everyone else. It was just another reason Catra needed a drink to endure this place.

For half an hour they inched forward in line. Scorpia struck up conversation with some pampered rich kids from out of town while Catra stewed in silence. A few dumbass jock types got bold enough to approach her with intentions transparent like polished glass. Honestly, how anyone could look at her and think ‘yeah, she wants a stranger’s attention’ was a mystery. People were just stupid. Most retreated after one or two clipped comments. One ended up on his ass when he tried to put a hand on her shoulder. Even Scorpia couldn’t fault her for that one. 

“Just don’t get us kicked out by security," Perfuma warned, smiling all the same, as the offending douchebag scrambled away.

“Yeah, yeah," Catra waved a dismissive hand. It didn’t even count as a fight. No way security would throw her out over it.

When they finally got inside, Catra got about what she’d expected. Neon lights in a dozen different colours flashed across the open dance floor and trailed up the two floors above them. Hundreds of young brats of dubious sobriety were packed into every inch of space. It was a loud and sweaty mess just like every other club she’d known.

“Oh man, this place is great!” Scorpia grabbed Perfuma by the shoulder and wrapped an arm around her. “You were so right to recommend this place.”

Catra rolled her eyes at them. It wasn’t anything special really. New or not, these places were all the same to Catra. They only mattered for what you could get there. 

_ Speaking of…  _ “Where’s the bar?" Catra asked.

Scorpia peered over the crowd. At six and a half foot, she made a great scout. “I see it. We’re going to have to get through the dance floor.”

“Leave that to me.”

Scorpia might have had height and bulk, but she lacked the willpower to be a battering ram through a crowd. Catra was more than pleased to fill that roll instead. 

* * *

“Where have you two been?” Glimmer practically yelled as Netossa and Spinarella got back to the booth they’d claimed on the first floor.

“Ugh, some bitch barged into us on the dance floor and spilled our drinks. We had to order new ones.”

Adora looked at the mass of strangers below. People really could be so rude.

They’d got to Light Spinner’s just before the queues really started coming. The club was filling up fast. These crowds weren’t Adora’s scene but with her friends here she could still start to relax. A little drink, maybe some dancing later if she was sure the others were too drunk to care, and maybe this night would be a nice one after all.

For a while, it was. Adora didn’t drink too much, but just enough to feel herself loosen a little bit. The others ranged from entirely, unhappily sober to slurring messes - and all within the first hour. 

“Come on," Glimmer said after a while, pulling Adora up by the arm, “I need another drink.”

“I could probably use something else too.”

Glimmer smiled. “Glad to see you’re letting yourself enjoy it.”

Glimmer kept a hold of her wrist as they shimmied through the crowds on the dance floor. Adora wasn’t nearly drunk enough to try dancing yet, but maybe if everyone else threw caution to the wind then she’d just have to go along with it. Making an idiot of yourself was always better with company.

Glimmer forced her way through to the bar. They managed to carve out a place in the crowd. A towering woman with short white hair, so buff as to make Adora feel small, leaned on the bar beside Glimmer. She was wrapped up in conversation with some blonde girl that, upon a second glance, Adora recognised from her favourite coffee place. Perfuma, she recalled. Perfuma caught a glance at Adora from the corner of her eye, smiled politely, and went back to her conversation. They weren’t friends or anything, but Adora frequented Plumeria enough that it wasn’t unusual to acknowledge each other.  _ Strange, the sorts of people you run into in these places. _

Just behind Perfuma was a striking, silent stranger with her back to the crowd. A woman about Adora’s age, with thick, wild brown hair, wearing a leather jacket and combat boots of all things to a nightclub. She was hunched over the bar, not looking up from her drink, and had all the body language of someone that didn’t want to be there. It was a shame, really, because Adora definitely had no complaints about catching a glance at her. 

Adora shook those particular thoughts away and focused on the drinks. She wasn’t here to leer at attractive strangers. Glimmer ordered drinks for them, rattling off orders for everyone else. Adora trusted her friend’s judgement for her next drink and didn’t catch the name of it. A few minutes later, the bartender delivered them a tray full of glasses.

When Glimmer turned, drinks in hand, her dress must have caught on something. She stepped away, only to be yanked back. Adora reached out to catch her but it was too late to stop the disaster. Glimmer tumbled to the ground, dropping their drinks in a crash of shattered glass, and falling into the tall woman beside them to boot.

Worse still, the stranger knocked over her own drink and a few down the bar. A chorus of groans and shouts came from the other patron and dozens of eyes looked to them. They’d just pissed off a lot of people.

“Glimmer!” Adora pulled Glimmer up from the floor. Glass crunched under her feet. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

“Hey, you alright?” They both looked up as the tall woman beside them spoke. “You had a bad fall there.” She didn’t look angry at all, which was a relief.

Glimmer got up and brushed herself off. The spilled drinks were pooling out over the bar. “Yeah. I’m so sorry.”

The woman waved her hand. “Hey, it’s fine, accidents happen.”

“What the fuck’s your problem?” A sharp, abrasive voice.  _ Familiar? _

The brooding brunette stranger burst out from behind Perfuma. She moved past Adora in a flash, beelining straight for Glimmer. She bit her tongue, trying to force down those thoughts from moments earlier. Should Adora feel bad for checking that girl out now? Especially since she looked ready to punch Glimmer any second.

Adora’s focus returned instantly as the new girl grabbed Glimmer by the scruff of her neck. “I asked you a question, Sparkles.”

Glimmer was no helpless damsel. She pushed the girl away and huffed. “Jeez, I just fell over. What the hell is your problem?”

The tall woman reached out a hand. “Hey, wildcat, it’s really—” 

“Not now, Scorpia!” The new girl stepped towards Glimmer again. Adora saw the girl’s fists clench, her long black nails digging into her palms, and knew to act.

The girl’s hand went out, but Adora’s met it. Before the punch landed, Adora caught the girl’s wrist firmly. Adora glared at her, and in a second her world came undone.

_ Mismatched eyes. _

Adora would know them anywhere. One a bright icy blue, the other a radiant yellow-green. And the hair. Adora should have known. Thick, brown, and curly, falling down below her neck. Hell, the outfit too. It was just the sort of thing she’d always said she’d wear if she could. 

This couldn’t be real. She couldn’t be here. Adora couldn’t have spent years waiting and looking and eventually writing off the search as a lost cause only to run into her trying to punch Glimmer in the face.

But no, here she was. She hadn’t recognised Adora quite yet, but Adora could never mistake her.

“Catra?”

* * *

Catra had been fine stewing by herself. Leaning over the bar, eyeing her third or fourth shot, she’d been fine to melt away into the background as Scorpia and Perfuma kept each other entertained.

She’d been content to watch the crowd. Mostly she looked with disdain at the annoying drunk students stumbling around the place, wondering if any of them would be stupid enough to approach her. Others she watched with a bit more interest. Catra was defensive and solitary, but she wasn’t dead, and there was a reason people came to places like this looking for certain types of company. So yeah, Catra was checking some of them out. 

A brunette dancing just a bit too close for her to ignore.  _ Feisty, almost downright sultry.  _ A girl in a tanktop with short hair dyed blue.  _ Punky, fit, and as gay as blatantly gay as an Elton John brunch party,.  _ Then there was the blonde girl she’d spotted at a booth on the second floor. Catra had only seen the back of her but like hell was she going to complain about that sight. 

That blonde eventually made her way to the bar, ending up just beside Scorpia. Catra didn’t want to be caught staring, so forced herself - with a huge amount of effort - to keep her eyes on her drink. 

Maybe that was why Catra had been too slow to react. The pink-haired girl in a sequin dress that came to the bar with that damn blonde girl fell, smashing a tray full of drinks on the floor and knocking Scorpia’s over too. Scorpia stumbled and her drink went too, followed by some empty glasses stacked on the bar, one of which rolled quickly into Catra’s shot and knocked it over the floor, along with a few more people further up the bar.

She blinked once. Her inhibitions were gone by now. Scorpia was trying to brush it off like it was nothing. Maybe it was nothing to Scorpia, but Catra would make it something for herself. She needed an outlet, and this dumb girl in her sparkly dress was just the thing she needed.

““What the fuck’s your problem?” Catra rushed over in a flash, not even glancing at the blonde girl, and grabbed the pink-haired clutz by the scruff of her stupid, garish dress. “I asked you a question, Sparkles.”

The girl’s eyes flashed with indignation. With a bit more fire than Catra expected, Sparkles pushed her away. ““Jeez, I just fell over. What the hell is your problem?”

Catra felt a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, wild cat, it’s really—”

She threw it off. “Not now, Scorpia!”

Catra glared at the girl for a moment. God, she hated the stupid pink hair and the gall the girl had to think Catra was the one with the problem. Catra’s only problem was with obnoxious idiots disturbing one of her few chances to feel something. If Sparkles ruined one chance to let off steam, then she’d just have to provide the alternative.

She felt the familiar pump of adrenaline as she raised her fist.  _ Oh, I am so getting kicked out for this. _

Catra threw forward. Sparkles’ eyes went wide for a split second before a blur came from Catra’s side. A hand wrapped around her wrist. The blonde. 

She was strong. Not Scorpia strong, but the grip was firm and her biceps bulged noticeably as she gripped Catra’s hand. Her eyes were bright ocean blue, her blonde hair thick and beautiful and tied up in a neat, perfect pony-tail. Her red dress did wonders for her figure too. She was a hundred times prettier up close, if that was even possible.

Then Catra realised that the girl was staring at her like some witless idiot. The girl’s perfect lips were parted and her eyes frantically searched Catra’s. Suddenly she was conscious of her heterochromia. 

The girl’s breathing was rapid and shallow and her lips twitched slightly.

“Catra?”

_ How in the—  _

It all crystallised in the second. The blue eyes, the blonde hair, the ponytail, the sheer fucking artistic perfection of the woman in front of her could only ever be one person.

“ _ Adora _ .”

Her world froze. A thousand options ran through Catra’s head: to hug her, to hold her as tightly as she’d wanted to the day Adora left, to slap her, to throttle her and scream until her throat was raw. Right now though, all she could do was stare.

“Hey! You two!” A meat-headed security guard marched over, forging through the gathering crowd. “No fighting. Get out, now!”

Scorpia tried to step in. “Sir, please, they’re weren’t going to fight!”

“She tried to punch me!" Sparkles shouted.

“Just get out of here! Both of you!” 

Adora and Catra didn’t answer. They simply stared. Catra’s mouth went dry and her heart thundered in her ears.

She barely felt the bouncer grab her by the arm and haul her out. Another bouncer came from somewhere and grabbed Adora too. Everyone stared as they were dragged outside. Vaguely, she heard Scorpia excusing herself through the crowd and Sparkles’ annoying voice telling Adora that she’d grab their friends.

The bouncers practically threw them down the steps into the street. Catra kept on her feet, stumbling forward but quickly righting herself. She spun around immediately to see Adora staring at her a few metres away with the same awed expression from before.

Even Scorpia could tell something was going on. Her and Perfuma hurried outside but kept their distance. 

“Catra? Is that really you?” Adora’s voice was low and breathless.

Outside it was even worse. The harsh lighting inside didn’t do Adora justice. She was gorgeous. Tall and muscular without being intimidating, electric eyes that hadn’t changed a bit, and a figure shown off so perfectly by her dress. On any other night, Catra would have been floored. For any other person, Catra would have been enthralled. Maybe she was right now, beneath everything else rushing through her mind.

As Catra took in the sight of Adora, eight years removed from the girl she’d last seen, she felt only one thing. From the way Adora’s eyes were welling up with tears whose meaning Catra didn’t want to begin to think about, the way a few wayward strands of hair fell down to perfectly frame her gorgeous face, to the way Adora’s skin glowed even with the harsh street lights - she was so perfect. Achingly, infuriatingly, insultingly perfect.

Catra hated every inch of that perfection.

Sparkles reappeared with a mass of preppy-looking students. Adora’s friends, obviously. Everyone looked worried, except Sparkles, who glared at Catra like she wanted to rip her head off. Even Adora’s legion of friends were caring and defensive and sprung to her side at a moment’s notice. Predictable. 

It was so perfectly fitting of Entrapta to barge out of the crowd at that moment. “I saw everything!” She stopped besides Adora’s friends, “Hello Bow! I know you. And…” Entrapta listed off more names that Catra didn’t care to listen to.” Oh, and Adora. I know you too. Hard not to really with how often you’re in the student papers.” Entrapta stopped when she finally gauged the mood. “Oh, was this a bad time?”

“A little bit," Scorpia said.

“Oh…” Entrapta, for once in her life, shut up.

Every eye fell on them. Adora’s friends, Catra’s friends, and a growing number of people queuing that suddenly found something interesting to fill the time.

“I can’t believe it.” Adora was crying now. The girl even dared to take a step towards her and reach out.

“Are you fucking serious?” Catra hissed. Adora stopped dead in her tracks. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

Adora paused, stupid gorgeous eyes blinking in confusion. “W-what? I don’t—”

Catra couldn’t stop herself laughing. “Oh this is fucking rich. Now you show up? Eight years and you turn up defending some sparkly bitch in a mediocre nightclub?”

“Catra, I—”

“Did someone set this up?” She looked over to Scorpia, who was watching in stunned silence. “Did you set this up or something?” Catra frowned. “No, you wouldn’t be so cruel. You wouldn’t even know about it, anyway.” 

Adora was still staring at her with that gormless blank face. “I don’t know what you mean. It’s me, it’s—”

“God, eight years and you’re still a fucking idiot.”

Finally, Adora’s mouth stopped wavering on the verge of saying something pointless. Perhaps she’d finally figured out that Catra was beyond furious to just look at her. 

_ No, that was too much to hope.  _ Apparently Adora thought it was a joke, like old times.

“You look good," Adora said weakly, “I mean, you look okay.”

Catra wanted to scream. Adora honestly couldn’t be this dense, could she?

“I look okay?" Catra shouted back. “I feel like shit!” That was a bit more detail than was needed. “I’ve been through shit. For eight fucking years I’ve had pile after pile of utter crap thrown at me, just like always. I’m not surprised you don’t see that. God knows you wouldn’t care. You wouldn’t understand either. You look fucking peachy! Life’s been real kind to you, got all your friends scrambling to your side. Oh, and in the student newspapers at BMU? Wow, your life must be so great, huh? So much better than it was with me in it, right? Ditching me worked out great.”

Now Adora understood. Her perfect little face wavered and her voice came out broken and cracked. 

Catra had gotten through. Adora had finally realised that Catra seethed with hatred for every fiber of Adora’s perfect, stupid being. Catra had hurt her and it should have felt divine. So why didn’t it?

“Catra…" Adora swallowed, her shoulders slumping, “That’s not what… I didn’t—”

“That’s not what happened? What part of you walking off with Mara the first chance you got did I imagine, hmm? What part of you abandoning me to Weaver was I wrong about? What part of ‘I promise I’ll come back’ did I misunderstand?”

Finally, a tear spilled down Adora’s cheek. “I’m… I’m sorry, Catra.”

“Awh, you’re sorry," Catra asked, lacing it with all the sarcasm she could. “Well, you’re sorry so I guess it’s all okay then. Problem solved.”

“Jesus, what is wrong with you?” Sparkles rushed down and hugged Adora from the side. Adora whimpered into her touch and sobbed.

“Yeah, what the fuck?” Another one of Adora’s friends, a dark-skinned girl in a suit and a fucking fedora, hurried down as if itching for a fight. She was joined by another girl in white, just as angry.

Catra cackled in their faces. “Can’t even fight your own battles, Adora? You just get all your little friends to do it for you. I shouldn’t be surprised. Everyone bends over backwards for  _ Adora. _ Adora, Adora, perfect fucking Adora!”

Adora’s fedora-wearing friend clenched her fists. “Do you  _ want _ me to break your nose?”

Catra didn’t pay her any mind. She focused only on Adora. Sparkles cradled her as Adora spilled out in pathetic sobs and tears. 

Her anger was getting the better of her now. The almost mocking tone she’d had before seemed impossible to hold. “You never stand up to anyone! You can’t stand up to me, you didn’t stand up to Mara, you didn’t stand up to Weaver! God, you’re such a coward!”

“Catra," Adora looked up at her, broken and distraught, “I never meant… I loved you—”

That word was too much. “How  _ dare  _ you.” Was Catra crying? She didn’t even know. “God, I can’t believe you’re still trying this. This is exactly why I never wanted to see you again! You just have to keep the act up, don’t you? You were so good at pretending to care. All those years and I never suspected a thing.” Catra’s anger fell, a familiar pain in her chest returning. “You walked away just like everyone else. I… you...” Catra searched for something sharp and hurtful, something that might make Adora feel even the tiniest fraction of what she’d put Catra through. “You were the worst one of all. Weaver and my parents were bad, but they never pretended to be anything else. Not like you did.”

“Catra!” She didn’t recognise the voice until Scorpia had grabbed her and lifted her up. She was angry, or disappointed, or something Catra had never seen in her before. “I think it’s time we go.”

Perfuma apologised profusely but no one seemed to listen. Scorpia kept a tight grip on Catra as she carried the girl away. Catra didn’t try to fight it. It would be pointless to try to overpower Scorpia anyway. 

Adora’s friends glared furiously at her as Catra was dragged away. Adora didn’t look at her. She kept bawling her eyes out while Sparkles and her other friends tried to comfort her. It all seemed so familiar. Only this time it was Catra being led away after twisting the knife, leaving Adora in the dirt and in tears. 

It had been something she’d imagined for so long. Catra had dreamt of making the people who’d hurt her feel the same thing. She’d wanted to make them understand, to feel the same sense of loss, hopelessness, and heartbreak that they’d forced onto Catra. Adora had deserved it, Catra had told herself. Catra had wanted to see her suffer for everything she’d done for so long. It was nothing like she imagined. 

There was no smug satisfaction, no victory, and no revenge. It was just one girl doing everything in her power to hurt another, leaving them a broken, sobbing mess on the street corner. It was all too familiar. 

Worst of all, Catra had been wrong. It didn’t feel any better to be on this end either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, happy new year?
> 
> I wish I could tag this for angst a couple dozen more times. I can’t promise it’ll let up any time soon. That’s part of why I try to break it up with some light-hearted moments with their friends. You know what they say though: after the rain comes the rainbow. 
> 
> I know I said it in the last chapter but I probably need to say it again: I don’t necessarily endorse the actions or words of the characters. A big part of this fic is the consequences of the trauma Adora and Catra have dealt with. That unresolved trauma explains Catra’s behaviour, but to explain is not to excuse. What she’s doing isn’t okay and she’s going to have to reckon with that.
> 
> Also, there’s a few throwaway lines in there about Adora recognising Perfuma. That’ll be relevant a bit later on. Just so you know it wasn’t a pointless connection.


	4. As If She Cares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A slightly shorter chapter than usual this time. I just needed to maneuver things into position ready for next time and do some fallout of the last chapter. 

_You were the worst one of all. Weaver and my parents were bad, but they never pretended to be anything else. Not like you did._

Those were the words that haunted Adora the most. Among the slew of insults and broken shouts Catra had hurled her way, those last words had stung the most. Whatever pieces of Adora’s spirit hadn’t already been broken by that point were well and truly crushed with those words.

_You abandoned me. You walked away, just like everyone else._

Adora knew Catra had been hurt. Those last memories of Catra on the orphanage steps had haunted her for years, but she’d always thought that pain would be blamed on life, on the orphanage, on all the bullshit that had put them in that position in the first place. Catra was right: eight years and still a fucking idiot. Catra laid the blame for that squarely on Adora’s shoulders. 

“I still can’t believe all those horrible things she said to you!” Glimmer had been ranting for almost half an hour now. After spending the whole night consoling Adora, it was a miracle Glimmer had any energy left to do that. “There’s something seriously wrong with that girl.”

“Glimmer, calm down.” Bow was hunched over the kitchen table, trying his best to ease the mood. He looked to Adora, who sat miserably while staring at the floor. None of them had slept, let alone eaten, since coming back last night. “I’m really sorry, Adora,” he said for the millionth time, “I know that wasn’t anything like you wanted a reunion to be.”

Adora shrugged. “It’s… whatever.” If she used any more words, she might start crying again. It was better to focus on holding together.

It hurt. More than hurt. It burned, seared, stabbed at her soul every moment she thought about it. Adora had _broken_ Catra. It wasn’t like Adora hadn’t worried that she’d badly hurt Catra by leaving, but even her therapist had said it was a twisted form of survivor’s guilt and it was wrong for Adora, or anyone for that matter, to think she should be blamed for anything. Besides, the therapist had also told her, if Catra was truly her friend, then she’d be happy for Adora. Younger Adora knew, of course, that Catra was her best friend in the world, even after leaving Horde. She’d never think those things about Adora.

_Fucking idiot_ , rang through her head once again.

Glimmer finally stopped pacing and sat down. “You know it’s all nonsense, right? You did nothing wrong. She was way out of line to blame you. If she ever cared about you, she’d have been happy for you.”

“She did care!” Adora snapped. It made Glimmer jump and Bow paused. “I… don’t…” Adora shook her head. “I’m sorry. Just… please don’t say she didn’t care. We loved each other, once.” _I still love her_. “I just didn’t realise how much it’d hurt her when I left.”

“That doesn’t excuse her taking it out on you.”

“I know, Bow.” Adora rubbed her arm and looked anywhere but her friends’ eyes. “But… I get where she’s coming from, I guess?”

“Adora—”

“Just let me explain.” Glimmer and Bow shared a look and reluctantly nodded. “Catra’s been through a lot. A lot of people have walked out or mistreated her. Her parents and Weaver, yeah, but all those other families Weaver told me about too. It’s happened to her so much that… I kinda get why she saw it the way she did. People walk out on her and mistreat her and that’s how she sees the world now.” Adora felt more tears. “I should have known that. I should have known _her_ . I’m an idiot!”

They were both at her side in a second, cradling her as she fell into crying yet again. It was only a minute or so this time, a huge improvement from last night. They let her go once the shaking had stopped.

“Whatever trauma she has doesn’t justify how she treated you,” Glimmer said.

It was a harsh lesson, but a necessary one. Adora didn’t blame Catra but she wasn’t going to excuse her either. She loved Catra, in spite of last night, but she also loved Mara and Razz. She wasn’t going to let herself think that gaining them was a mistake or an insult to anyone else. 

“I know, I know. It still hurts. I just wish there was something I could do but…” Adora trailed off, defeated.

Bow sat against the table. “Look, we get that you like to be active in solving your problems, but I don’t think this is one of those problems you can fix on your own. Catra has a lot of issues. As much as you want to, you can’t fix them for her.”

“I think she made it clear she doesn't want me in her life,” Adora replied dryly, failing to disguise how much those words hurt to say. “Even if I had the power to fix things, I don’t think she’s in a state to let me. She definitely doesn’t want me to.”

“And that’s her loss.” Glimmer offered a hand on her shoulder. 

Adora squeezed her friend’s hand and stood up. “I guess.” Her friends made no effort to stop her as she went for her room. “I need to shower and, I don’t know, think I guess.”

“We understand.” Bow motioned to Glimmer. “We’ll give you some space. Glimmer and I are going to swing by Plumeria real quick. Matcha latte still good for you?”

Of course, Bow knew Adora’s weird, specific favourite. “You’re the best.”

“And a cinnamon roll,” Glimmer added, “for our favourite cinnamon roll.”

Adora rolled her eyes, not quite smiling. “You guys are dorks.”

“We love you too.” 

Adora shut herself away and let them go on.

It was hard not to take Catra’s words to heart. A rational part of her knew that a lot of what Catra said wasn’t fair, but not all of it was so easily dismissed. Adora had left and she’d never come back, not until Catra was long gone at least. 

Adora stripped off her dress and headed for the shower. The water was warm but couldn’t stop her shivering. As she let it wash over her, she finally realised what hurt the most. It was, like so many other things, buried in a memory.

——

_Adora waited anxiously for Catra. She already knew it was going to be bad. Catra hadn’t meant to drop the plate, but Weaver didn’t care. She’d grabbed Catra by the wrist and hauled her away to the cupboard in the adults’ corridor in front of everyone and hadn’t mentioned Catra for the rest of the day, scolding Adora every time she asked._

_That was at breakfast. It was nearly eight o’clock in the evening now. Weaver always let Catra back before bedtime at least._

_Sure enough, the doorknob turned. Quietly and gently, as if trying not to let the kids in the other rooms know she was there, Catra slipped inside. Her hair was a mess, her face was pale, and she’d clearly been crying on and off all day._

_Catra’s eyes met hers and they moved with familiar instinct. In seconds, Adora’s arms were around Catra, and the poor girl’s head was buried into her neck._

_“I hate her,” Catra mumbled. “I hate her, I hate this place, I hate it all!”_

_“I know. I hate it too.”_

_They stood like that for a long time. Adora gently stroked her hand upside Catra’s head, running her fingers through her hair just the way she always liked. Catra just tried to calm down, letting her breathing even out and gradually easing from ‘clinging for dear life’ to ‘holding for comfort.’_

_Eventually, Catra’s stomach rumbled loudly. It was normal for Catra not to get food on days like this._

_“Hey, sit down.” Catra obeyed as Adora rushed over to her bed. She pulled out a shoebox and handed it to Catra. “Here.”_

_Adora had known this would happen, so she’d prepared. Throughout the day, she’d swiped whatever she could from the kitchen and tucked it away. A few pieces of bread, a biscuit or two, some chips, even the unopened fruit bar that Kyle never ate no matter how many times Weaver gave him one._

_She expected Catra to tear into the food without a second thought. She was surprised when Catra hesitated and put it aside._

_“What’s wrong? I can get something else if—” She was cut off as Catra jumped up and threw her arms around Adora once more. She hugged back as tightly as she could._

_“I love you,” Catra murmured into her shoulder._

_Adora smiled. “I love you too.”_

_They’d said it to each other before, not often but more than a few times. Adora knew they both meant it. It had started feeling different these last few months though. Maybe it was because they’d spent so long together now, or maybe it was this whole ‘getting older’ thing everyone talked about - Adora would be twelve next month and Catra too a few months after that. Whatever the change, Adora could only say she knew the words meant more each time they said it._

_“You’re always there for me,” Catra continued, pulling back and looking Adora in the eye. “I’ve never had someone like you before. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”_

_“You’ve always been there for me too. You’re my favourite person in the world.” Adora loved the way Catra’s smile seemed to come through at that. “We’ll always be there for each other. I know we will.”_

_“Promise?”_

_Adora leaned forward, touching foreheads. “I promise.”_

—— 

Adora fell to her knees in the shower and covered her mouth with her hand in horror.

Catra and Adora had been each other’s safety. They’d been each other’s one escape from a life plagued by loss and abuse and loneliness. No matter what life threw at them, they’d known they’d only have to survive long enough to be back with the other, and then it’d all be okay.

To Adora, Catra was still that if only in memories. She’d still been that sanctuary, that security, that love that she’d always been. Even years after, even when Adora had written off ever finding her, any thoughts of Catra were thoughts of comfort and belonging and a home, in its own wonderful way.

But that wasn’t the same for Catra. Not anymore. Adora was pain to Catra. Adora was betrayal. She was all the anguish and heartbreak that she’d once been the escape from. The one thing, the one person, that Catra could count on had become a representation of everything that had hurt her. 

Catra had been lost to Adora. Out of reach but still a pleasant memory that Adora could cherish. But Adora had been _ruined_ to Catra. 

Adora could endure almost anything, but not that. Definitely not that.

* * *

It was just her luck that Catra didn’t forget a second of last night. The universe had decided to leave her with those memories perfectly, painfully intact.

_Adora…_ Catra didn’t even know where to begin. A note beside her bed, taped to a glass of water, let her avoid the topic just a little longer.

_Talk when you’re up?_ _  
__  
__\- Scorpia x_

Catra let herself be numb as she gulped down the water. This had to be it. After her outburst last night, she’d blown Scorpia’s last fuse. She’d be out on her ass by this evening with absolutely nowhere to go. 

How convenient for two disasters in her life to coincide. Maybe the universe had a sense of humour after all.

Catra didn’t bother changing out of her clothes from last night. They were messy and sweat-soaked and all around unpleasant, but if she was going to be a disaster, she might as well look the part.

The smell of coffee lingered when she stepped out of her room. What time was it? Before noon, probably. That was earlier than she’d expect to wake up after a night like that.

Scorpia and Perfuma were in the living room. They weren’t as bright and happy as usual and the moment Catra opened the door they almost jumped. _Great…_

“Hey, Catra. How are you feeling?”

So Scorpia was being gentle about this. Typical. She supposed it was better than a shouting match. Those were never a fun way to go.

Catra fell down into a free chair. “I’m fine,” she lied, saving them the trouble of any other answer. “What did you want to talk about?”

She didn’t want to dance around it. Better to rip the band-aid off now and hand Scorpia the opening, or else the woman would be too polite to do it quickly.

“Well,” Scorpia shuffled nervously in her seat, “I’ve been thinking about what happened last night.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

Scorpia swallowed uncomfortably, struggling to find the words. Even when preparing to kick her out, Scorpia couldn’t be cruel about it. Catra honestly admired that.

“I think you should tell us about Adora.”

Catra blinked. “Uh, what?”

“It was Adora, right?” Scorpia looked to Perfuma, who nodded in confirmation. “Clearly there’s some big stuff going on there that—”

“Why do you care?” Catra asked.

Scorpia looked at quizzically. “Because you’re my friend, wildcat. Duh. We wanna know what’s going on with you so we can help you, especially if it comes up again.”

_Again._ “Wait, so you’re not, you know?”

“You know what?” Scorpia asked.

_This girl has the patience of a saint._ Weaver would exile her to a cupboard for smashing a plate and most of the families chucked her back to Horde for boring them. That bastard Hordak… well, he had his own reasons to keep her around, but only for his own self-interest. But Scorpia? Catra could sink her own life, lose her job, leech off her hospitality for months, and make a public scene of making a girl cry, and Scorpia hadn’t even considered ditching her. That was… Catra didn’t want to think about what that was.

But Catra wasn’t going to take it for granted. If Scorpia hadn’t thought of it yet, Catra wasn’t going to plant the idea in her head for her.

“Nothing, nothing.” Catra heaved a sigh. One problem avoided, but straight into another. “So you want to know about Adora, huh?”

The name felt strange on her tongue. She’d thought it plenty but until last night she hadn’t said that name to anyone else in years. She hadn’t even heard it in years. Weaver mentioned her a handful of times, always to hurt Catra, but the other kids at Horde knew better than to say it. 

Catra hadn’t told Scorpia anything about her life. As far as Scorpia knew, she turned up in a Target parking lot one day and that was that. 

“Well, shit, I’ll go from the start I guess.”

So she did. Her parents abandoned her, the faint memories she had of them, and the hazy memories of her first few months at Horde. The punishments, the abuse, the scolding from that wicked old hag. Catra jumped to the families then, each one that took her in and dropped her just as quickly. She skipped over the darker details, which meant leaving pretty much all of her time with Hordak unspoken. 

“It was horrible,” she was reaching the end of her recollection now. “Wouldn’t wish Horde on my worst enemy.”

Scorpia and Perfuma’s faces had grown progressively more horrified as Catra had gone on. By now, Scorpia looked downright _angry_ , and Catra would have paid anything to see her in a room with Weaver.

“You didn’t mention Adora,” Perfuma said, noting the glaring absence.

Catra hadn’t even realised she’d consciously avoided Adora. She didn’t even know why she did that to be honest. All that pain and trauma should have found a perfect place for Adora to fit, and it wasn’t as if Adora wasn’t important to her story at Horde. No, it was like she’d wanted to place Adora somewhere else. Erase her maybe? No, that wasn’t right. Mark her out as worse than the others? Maybe, but as bad as Adora’s departure had been, the combined weight of the other things should have outweighed it. 

No, she knew why. Up until Adora left, she’d been a good thing. It felt wrong, even now, to spoil those precious few years by mentioning them in the same breath as everything else. Catra had never needed to talk about things like this before so she’d never even thought about how she’d compartmentalise it.

“Adora showed up when she was six, a couple months after me. Her parents died. Mom had cancer, dad was in a car crash a couple weeks later. Next thing she knew, she was just another cast-off.”

“Wow, that’s… I don’t even know.”

Catra winced. “Yeah.” 

Catra still felt a pang of sympathy. Adora had suffered even more than Catra by the time she came to Horde. Losing a parent ruins any kid, scars them for life, but two within weeks of each other? It was a miracle Adora still functioned by the time she came to Horde. Catra remembered many nights where she’d tried everything to console Adora when the memories came up again.

“We cared for each other.” At those memories of warm hugs and the best comforting words kids could give each other, Catra nearly smiled. “We were all the other had for years. I…” _I loved her._ She had, she really had. It hurt too much to say aloud. “She left when we were twelve. A woman came and adopted her and she just went. I never saw her again.”

She managed to keep as emotionless as possible with her delivery. Mentally, it wasn’t so easy, but she suppressed the sob that crept up her throat and the waver that snuck into her voice. The last thing she needed to show was vulnerability. 

“So that’s why you said all those things? Because she left?” Scorpia asked.

Catra nodded. “She left. Just like everyone else. She never cared, or she stopped caring, or whatever. So yeah, I blew up on her. The fuck was I supposed to do?”

“She got adopted, Catra. She got a better chance. That’s a good thing.”

Catra couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Are you taking her side?”

“No! I know it hurt you really badly. I’m just asking, what did you want her to do? Horde sounds bad. You said yourself you wouldn’t wish a life there on your worst enemy, so would you have preferred Adora stay there?”

The gall. The insensitivity. The sheer nerve of Scorpia to ask something like that. All made a hundred times worse by Catra’s inability to answer.

Catra wouldn’t wish Horde on her worst enemy. Adora got to be the favourite but she still hated it and suffered plenty there. It was a place of pain for Adora too. But that wasn’t the point. 

“She left me, Scorpia! She went all the way to Sileneas and never bothered with me again.”

Perfuma and Scorpia shared a look. “And it’s okay for you to be hurt by that. But try to think about how much a twelve year old girl could do in that situation? Sileneas is across the country, it’s not like she could drop in whenever.”

“She could have tried!”

Maybe a twelve year old kid couldn’t hop on a plane back, but couldn’t Adora have tried another way? Well, she couldn’t phone Catra, since Weaver never gave the kids phones. Or social media; Catra still didn’t use it. No internet access at Horde either - too unsafe, Weaver would say. 

Then surely Adora could have come back sometime. Weaver allowed visitors, didn’t she? Well, Catra couldn’t recall one, but surely they were allowed. Adopters were. Adora could have come to visit in the six years before Catra turned eighteen… except for about half the time where Catra was with the adopters. Would Weaver have said anything if Adora came when she was away? Catra knew that answer.

No, Adora could have found a way. If she cared, she’d have made the effort. Wasn’t Catra supposed to be worth that much to her?

_Wasn’t Adora meant to be worth that much to you, too?_

Catra smothered that thought right away. It wasn’t Catra that left. It was Adora’s responsibility. She’d walked out, she’d moved on, and it was her fault for never trying to reach out.

“I simply think,” Scorpia continued, “that no one breaks down like that over someone they don’t care about. I’m not saying you should forgive her or forget the pain you suffered, but maybe you’ve made some assumptions about Adora, and maybe, after last night, it'd be a good idea to talk to her.”

“So I can go and do what? Apologise? ‘Hey Adora, I’m sorry you broke my heart and abandoned me, let’s be best friends again.’”

“I’m not saying that. I’m saying rather than shout at Adora, you could look her in the eye, get some answers.” Scorpio shrugged sheepishly. “Who knows, maybe you could figure things out and be fr—”

“Don’t you dare say that word,” Catra hissed. 

“Sweetie,” Perfuma tried earnestly, “I think talking is a good idea. You’ve got a lot of unresolved things messing with your aura. If you talked to Adora you could get some closure. It might be easier to move on, if that’s what you want. Forget about her and the pain linked with her.”

_Forget about Adora. Move on._ Wasn’t that what she tried to do for years? Wasn’t that what she wanted for years?

All it would take was one more conversation, one more chance to make Adora justify everything she’d done. Then it could be over.

Catra stood up and neither of them tried to stop her. She heard them mumble something about ‘pushing too hard’ but didn’t listen to the rest. They wisely let her slink back in her room

It was a stupid idea, Catra decided. No, she wasn’t going to go speak to Adora. Adora didn’t deserve her time. She was better, stronger than Adora. Adora was a traitor who ran from Catra the moment she didn’t need her, and only cowards run.

She could hear Hordak’s voice again, for the first time in months.

——

_“Only cowards run, Catra.”_

_Hordak sat at the window of the grimy, messy bungalow they co-habited in the outskirts of town. She’d never say they shared anything._

_Catra had finally decided to ask why he’d sit at the window like that, waiting, usually drinking, and doing a shit job of hiding the handgun he kept in his lap._

_Catra might be sixteen, but she wasn’t a stupid kid. She knew there was something seriously wrong about Hordak. He was dangerous. Those tattoos along his muscled, scarred arms and up along his neck were prison marks or gang tattoos to the last. Dangerous, yes, but cool too. And the company he kept or the things she’d see him leave lying around the house? Calling him ‘shady’ was like calling a flood a puddle._

_“That’s why I picked you,” Hordak continued. Catra froze in place. He rarely talked to her more than he needed to. “You weren’t a coward. You didn’t run away like the others. That’s more useful.”_

_Catra had never asked why he picked her. After four adopters, she’d expected this fifth to be the same. All the other kids had shied away from the scary looking man that came to adopt, but Catra had thought it would be awesome. So what if it was going to end up with her back in Horde like the others? Hordak had looked cool and tough and surely it’d be an awesome few months before it ended._

_She’d been right and wrong, in a weird way. Hordak wasn’t like the other adopters. He didn’t care. Not like Weaver didn’t care, but rather he didn’t care in a way that made Catra wonder why he adopted at all. He didn’t speak to her, didn’t try to bond with her. He’d leave for days at a time without an explanation. He never cared if Catra went to the school he was legally required to enrol her in. He didn’t care what she ate, he didn’t care how late she came home, he didn’t even care if she drank his alcohol. She’d been terrified the first time he came home to find her chugging a can of beer from his cupboard, but he’d barely registered her before taking his own drink and walking back to his place by the window. He left money on the counter every week - Catra knew better than to ask where he got it from - and let her sort herself out._

_It was bizarre. Hordak’s only requirements were that she didn’t talk to anyone about him and that she never pried into his business or friends. Other than that, it was like she didn’t exist to him. It had been liberating at first, so much better than Weaver’s constant belittlement. She’d been living in this house for five months and Hordak hadn’t once seemed to get angry with her for anything. Catra couldn’t figure out why._

_“Useful for what?” Catra asked, hoping she’d not left the follow-up too long._

_Just then, a police siren sounded. Hordak flinched and he picked up the pistol from his lap. He waited. A distant flashing light came closer to the street but passed right on by, carrying the siren with it._

_Catra wasn’t too stupid to know Hordak wasn’t an upstanding citizen either. No public record - Catra had checked - but she knew that didn’t count for much. Often, they just never caught the worst ones._

_Hordak seemed to settle and put the gun back down. He glanced back over to Catra, not uttering a word or changing his expression, but somehow telling her clearly that she was dismissed._

_Catra knew better than to question him. She shrugged and went to her room. Whatever Hordak meant, she could handle it. Life had hardened her, after all. She was no coward._

——

She hated remembering Hordak. The memories came in fits and bursts that were never pleasant. Even the earlier memories like this one were rancid to her now.

At the very least, Hordak had solidified so many lessons she’d learned. 

_No one cared. Everyone left. Catra wasn’t a coward._

Adora had cared once. Then Adora came back. Those first two lessons were apparently wrong. Would it be a good idea to use that third lesson and get some damn answers?

* * *

Adora’s other friends mercifully avoided the topic on Monday. They sat together in one of the cafes on campus, intentionally and somewhat conspicuously avoiding any mention of Catra, Saturday, or the fact Adora was barely more than a corpse.

They’d claimed their usual spot in the corner of the café, all seven of them that were at Light Spinner’s for the _incident_. Glimmer and Bow laughed at some joke Sea Hawk had told while Mermista suppressed a groan at it. Spinnarella and Netossa were speaking among themselves, smiling through it so it must have been something nice. Adora couldn’t find the energy to pay attention.

She hated to think what their impression of Catra was. A crazy, violent, cruel disaster that they’d nearly got into a fight with. That wasn’t the way she wanted them to think of someone that meant so much to her.

Adora’s attention drifted half-heartedly to the rest of the café. Mostly strangers with a handful of vaguely familiar faces. A flash of long pink hair drew her eyes to the doors for a moment and… _oh_.

Entrapta. Adora knew what the girl looked liked from Bow’s mentions of her, but she’d never paid much attention to her. After Saturday though, knowing that Entrapta of all people knew Catra, she had a whole new meaning.

Entrapta’s skittish eyes searched the room. Adora was still staring when Entrapta noticed her. She tried to avert her gaze and pretend she hadn’t noticed but it proved to be pointless when Entrapta strolled over with a hapless smile on her face.

“Hello, everyone. Bow, Adora, Glimmer—” 

“Hi to you too, Entrapta," Bow answered quickly before she could rattle off the names of everyone in the group again. 

The mood crashed immediately. It didn’t take a genius to know exactly what Entrapta’s appearance reminded everyone of. All of her friends seemed to glance at Adora as if worrying that she’d break down again. Adora tried to shrink into her jacket and melt through the floor.

“Entrapta, maybe this isn’t a good time.”

“What? Oh no, it’s the perfect time. Both you and Adora are here so it’s much more efficient.”

Glimmer stuttered. “Uhh...”

“What do you want, Entrapta?" Adora sighed. 

“Oh, it’s just a message from Scorpia.” Entrapta paused. “She’s the woman that Glimmer fell into on Saturday. She wanted to say she’s very sorry for what happened and that it really wasn’t any trouble. She hopes the fall didn’t hurt you, Glimmer.”

Glimmer smiled awkwardly. “Tell her I’m sorry too for stumbling into that mess.” 

“Also to Adora," Entrapta turned to face her, “Scorpia is very sorry for what happened. She doesn’t know what came over Catra.”

Adora took in a sharp breath. Just hearing her name out loud again was enough to shake her.

“Tell her thanks," Adora answered weakly. She could still muster the strength to be polite. “But Scorpia has nothing to be sorry for.”

Entrapta rubbed her chin. “True, but Catra has never apologised for any significant thing in the entire time we’ve known her so Scorpia wanted someone to do it for her.”

“No apologies? Never would have guessed," Mermista grumbled from across the table.

“That’s fine, Entrapta.” Every mention of Catra still stung too much. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“Neither did Catra. She was more evasive than you though. Shame, since it was such a fascinating interaction, so obviously layered with deep emotional—”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it!” Adora slammed her fist down and drew the eyes of nearby tables. Her friends suddenly looked uncomfortable. 

Entrapta blinked, tilted her head, and then shrugged. “Understood. Have a good day now.”

Without another word, Entrapta bounced off across the room, not bothered in the slightest. The others in the cafe turned away but Adora still felt the flush in her cheeks. 

"I just snapped at her didn’t I?”

Bow winced. “A little bit.”

“It’s fine, she didn’t mind," Glimmer said.

It wasn’t fine though. First Glimmer and Bow, not Entrapta. Adora was having enough problems as it was, she didn’t need the guilt of snapping at everyone too. Entrapta was just a messenger and meant no harm, she didn’t deserve Adora’s unstable ass chewing her out for doing something for her friends. 

She bit her lip and looked off in the direction Entrapta went. The pink-haired girl bounded through the main doors and disappeared.

“I should go apologise.” Adora threw her bag over her shoulder and got up.

“Adora, I don’t think—”

“It’s fine, Glimmer.” Adora gave the strongest smile she could to her friends. It couldn’t have been much of one. “I’ll catch you guys later.”

Ignoring the stares of others wondering why one of the school favourites had just shouted at a random girl in the cafe, Adora rushed after Entrapta. She navigated the packed tables and queuing customers and came out of the main doors, spotting Entrapta’s pink hair going off into another building.

_What are you doing, Adora?_ The voice in her head sounded suspiciously like Catra. _You’re not just going to apologise for snapping, are you?_

Adora ignored it. She powered on, heading inside and catching up with Entrapta. She caught up with her in the stairwell, apparently of the science and technology building, and tapped her on the shoulder. 

“Um, Entrapta?”

She spun around. “Oh, hello again.” Entrapta’s face twisted in thought. “Wait, did I forget something?”

“No.” Adora brushed her arm and looked at the ground. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. It wasn’t right of me to take out my anger on you.”

Entrapta just kept smiling. “Hmm? Oh, that. Oh, that’s not a problem. Catra does the same thing actually. I get too caught up in my work and the sudden audio input is enough to get my attention.”

That wasn’t what she needed to hear, but that was Adora’s fault for speaking to one of Catra’s friends. At least, she assumed they were friends. Entrapta had gone to Light Spinner’s with Catra and seemed to have a lot of knowledge of her.

_And seems to be in contact with her._

The solution to the Catra problem has been bouncing around these halls this whole time. She’d been sat in Bow’s computer classes writing up code and intruding on databases under the same roof as Adora for years.

It should have been too late for things like that now. Catra had made it very clear that Adora wasn’t welcome in her life, no matter how much Adora wanted Catra in hers. But Adora was a fucking idiot, of course. 

“You’re friends with Catra, right?”

“Well we’ve never used the term but we satisfy enough criteria, so yes.” 

“I just needed to ask if Catra is… okay, I guess?”

“She didn’t sustain any physical injuries on Saturday, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“No, I mean, in general. Is she okay? Is she happy?”

Entrapta looked away, twisting her mouth and rubbing her chin. “Hmm, well based on observations of emotional availability, alcohol consumption, dietary habits, attitude to life, and her general societal adjustment…” Entrapta seemed to hesitate. “No," she answered, “no, not really.”

_Of course she isn’t. What are you going to do about it?_

Truthfully, there was almost nothing Adora could do. Bow was right: this was a problem Adora couldn’t just throw herself into and fix. The only thing she thought she could do was be there for her, like she had when they were kids, but that option seemed long gone. 

Adora didn’t regret leaving with Mara, but she did hate leaving Catra. All the pain that caused Catra was real and extensive and, even though she knew she shouldn’t, Adora couldn’t help but feel guilty for it. Adora did leave her, and Adora never did come back. There were practical and emotional reasons for that, sure, but to Catra, loneliness and broken promises were all she had. 

“Can you just tell her that… I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything and… yeah." Adora felt a tear down her cheek. “Just please tell her.”

Entrapta seemed uncomfortable. She reached out a hand and patted Adora’s shoulder hesitantly. “There, there. I’ll tell her.”

“Thank you," Adora sniffled. “Excuse me.”

Adora turned away and ran off down the stairs before too many people could see her cry. Entrapta watched for a moment, shrugged again, and carried on as if nothing happened.

* * *

No, it was a terrible idea. Catra was sure she’d settled her mind this time.

_You could make Adora answer for it though. Get her to look you in the eye and try to justify why she left and never tried to come back. You could strip away all that feigned care and get her to admit to what she really is: a liar, a traitor, and a dreadful friend._

_You could find out why everyone leaves. What do you keep doing to push everyone away?_

_You could find out why, after all this time, Adora’s fake care is so real that a little piece of you knows it can’t be fake at all._

“Ugh!” Catra pulled at her hair, forcing her mind to shut up for a damn minute. It was filled with stupid, pointless thoughts. Thoughts that only made things more complicated. It’d be so much easier if her brain would just shut up.

But no, Scorpia and Perfuma had gone and planted a niggling seed of doubt that was sprouting into a poisonous desire to see Adora again.

See her for what? To get hurt? To fall into the trap all over again? No, she wasn’t that stupid. Not anymore. She wouldn’t let herself be.

How would she even get in touch with Adora anyway? It was never going to be a possibility.

Then, she heard that possibility stroll through the front door.

“Scorpia?” Entrapta asked after letting herself in. “Are you still here? I really need the notes I left here. They’re important.”

Of course. Catra had been so caught up in everything that she’d forgotten another little revelation from Saturday: Entrapta knew Adora. They went to BMU together. 

_Pfft, what does it matter anyway? You’re not going to speak to Adora._

Catra stayed put on her bed. It wasn’t unusual for Entrapta to drop in like this, find that Scorpia wasn’t there, and head on her way. She knew not to bother Catra and Catra was happy to leave it that way.

Three knocks. Just her luck. “Catra? I know you’re in there. I was asked to deliver a message.”

Catra grumbled, got up, and pulled open the door. “Is it a Scorpia message? Because I told her to stop using you as a courier.”

“Hmm?” Entrapta smiled in her usual oblivious way. “Oh no. This message is from Adora.”

Catra choked on air. “ _Adora_? W-what… I mean, what… why do you have a message from Adora?” 

“Because I spoke to her. Scorpia asked me to check if Glimmer was okay and to apologise for what happened on Saturday.”

“She _what_?”, Catra growled. How dare Scorpia go behind her back like that? Adora was none of Scorpia’s business. Not that she was Catra’s business either, Catra didn’t care about Adora, but still, Scorpia had no right to do that. “I can’t believe Scorpia sent you to speak to her!”

“You’re unhappy? Well, Adora and her friends didn’t seem happy about discussing the matter either. Adora says she snapped at me, which was apparently done in anger, but I didn’t really notice.”

That was… odd. Adora didn’t snap at anyone, even Catra when she’d tried to annoy her for hours on end. It just wasn’t in Adora’s character to have outbursts like that. Catra had always called her boring; sometimes it was fun to kick up a fuss.

Her traitorous mind was awash with thoughts. _Something’s wrong. Adora is angry and hurt. It’s the only reason she’d snap._

_No! No! No!_ It’s been years. Maybe adulthood did away with Adora’s childish meekness. 

_Besides,_ Catra thought, as she focused on literally anything else, _how dare Adora snap at Entrapta? At your friend? You shouldn’t stand for that. Maybe you should go tell Adora that she shouldn’t treat your friends like that._

As always, Entrapta was oblivious to the turmoil in Catra’s mind. “She apologised for it but I still don’t know why. It didn’t bother me.” Entrapta seemed to think on that a moment before shrugging and tossing the thought aside. “She asked about you too. If we were friends and if you were ‘okay.’” Entrapta emphasised the last word with airquotes, as if it was somehow a weird question. Entrapta’s standards for those things were a mystery.

Resignation? Exhaustion? Acceptance? Catra wasn’t quite sure what emotion hit her then. The anger was gone and she just felt lost. Of course Adora asked how Catra was doing, why wouldn’t she?

_Why do you still pretend Adora?_ Maybe Catra just needed to ask her that. Would that hurt? Probably, just maybe not as much as never knowing at all.

“What did you tell her?”

“Well, yes to the first one. Was that okay? We’re friends, aren’t we?” Entrapta took her silence as a yes. “For the other, I said, uh, no.” 

There was something in the way Entrapta answered her. An awareness that the answer had some deeper implication that even Entrapta, through all her different mental wiring, could feel. Despite every wall Catra had put up, despite Entrapta’s own difficulties with people and emotions, even she could tell.

No, Catra wasn’t okay. She’d not been okay for a long time. Maybe she’d only ever been ‘okay’ a handful of times in her life. Maybe most of those times had been with Adora.

“Adora also wanted to apologise.” Catra wasn’t even surprised. “‘For everything and… yeah.’”

Catra raised an eyebrow. “And yeah?”

“And yeah. Her words. Honestly, I thought everything would cover, well, everything. Seems redundant.”

Catra breathed a laugh, not quite admitting whether it was because of Entrapta being herself or the face Adora _still_ finished off uncomfortable sentences in the same way she did as a kid.

_Adora really cares, doesn’t she?_ Had a guilty conscience finally caught up with her? Why now and not back then, or any time after? Had she ever really stopped?

But that couldn’t be right. Adora didn’t care, she’d never have left if she did. 

_No one ever cares. Everyone leaves_. Two simple truths, drilled in through experience. Adora just had to come and throw those into doubt too, didn’t she? 

Catra needed to know. She needed to be sure. She wasn’t clear on what, exactly, but she just needed to know. Adora had the answers she needed. One last time, then, Catra had to face her.

Entrapta simply stared at her, unsure what she was supposed to add.

“Hey, Traps, you heading into BMU tomorrow?” Catra asked before the girl could say anything else.

“Well I haven’t got any lectures but I was planning to head into the labs late tomorrow afternoon. There’s this—”

“Perfect. I’ve got some stuff to do near there. I’ll drop you off.”

Entrapta regarded her curiously. “It wouldn’t happen to be Adora-related stuff, would it?”

“Do you want the lift or not?”

“Hmm? Oh yes, please. Thank you.”

That was that then. Tomorrow. No alcohol, no fighting. Just her and Adora. One last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, there’s some edgy Hordak-related backstory coming. Let’s just say there was a reason Catra was so ready to use violence last chapter.
> 
> A lot of Entrapta too. I’m not sure she’s going to have much of a role in the future, but it helped here. As someone who’s on the spectrum, I tried to balance the more eccentric Entrapta of the show with something more grounded in my own experience.
> 
> Also, I promise this is the last chapter without Catra and Adora interaction.


	5. Look Me In The Eye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: I’ll follow etiquette I’ve seen elsewhere in this fandom and give a warning of anxiety/panic disorder discussion and references to serious illness in family members.
> 
> Sorry for being a few days later than usual, this chapter was stubborn and needed extra attention.

Catra had driven past Brightmoon University a few times. She’d always looked at the clean buildings with their neatly cut grass and old trees lining the pathways with a little bit of anger. It was nicer than it had any right to be. All those students were blissfully protected from how difficult the world could really be. The place seemed alien and fuelled a deep resentment inside her.

Now she was pulling into the damn place’s parking lot, slipping her car into a space as far away from any others as she could find. Entrapta bounced happily in the passenger seat, excited over some line of code that Catra hadn’t paid attention to her speaking about.

“So here you are, I guess.”

“Great!” Entrapta reached for something in her bag. “Thank you,” she added, as if only barely remembering to do so.

“Yeah don’t sweat it.” Catra bit her lip as Entrapta kept searching for something. Entrapta wouldn't judge her for what she wanted to ask, she probably wouldn’t even care. Still, it made Catran nervous to even say it. “Hey, so, uh, would you happen to know where Adora might be?”

In a flash, Entrapta pulled out two pieces of paper. One was a map of the campus and another was a timetable. Catra squinted at the name printed on top: _Adora Grayskull._

Entrapta kept smiling through as if it wasn’t a big deal, but Catra was left stunned. That gesture, that thought… that wasn’t what she expected from anyone, least of all Entrapta. Not that she didn’t like Entrapta, just that the girl wasn’t an emotions person. For her to see through her again and to go this extra mile was, well, she didn’t have the words for it right now. Shit, there was enough emotional stuff going on with Adora without having Entrapta pulling surprisee on her too.

“How did you get this?” Catra asked, not needing to ask how Entrapta knew she’d want it.

“I hacked the system. Obviously.” 

“Obviously.” Catra folded the papers away. “Thanks, Traps.”

“No problem. It was quite fun actually. For a bit anyway, it really didn’t take me long. The university needs better security.” The girl’s eyes lit up. “Oooh, maybe I could set something up for that! I’ll think about it. Oooh, I could start planning now.”

Entrapta got out of the car and ran off, still blabbering about her new idea. Catra watched until she’d disappeared inside, ignoring the looks from other students who wondered why the weird tech kid was running inside yammering about security systems.

Finally alone, Catra lay her head on the steering wheel. 

“You’re really doing this?” She wasn’t sure why she was talking to herself. She knew the answer. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

Catra needed an answer. She needed an explanation. That was all. Then she could forget about it and move on with her life as if Adora hadn’t stumbled back into it. Closure was all she needed, just like Perfuma and Scorpia said. Maybe for once Catra would be allowed to have it.

She looked at the timetable and the map to orient herself. As she did, she couldn’t help but glance over the details of Adora’s schedule. Medieval History classes with a few sociology and geography classes sprinkled in.  
  
It made her laugh. “God, you were always a nerd.” 

—— 

_“No I’m not Catra!” Adora pushed Catra away, giggling as she did. “I just like reading!”_

_“Like I said. Nerrrrrrrrdddd.”_

_Catra grabbed Adora again and pulled her to the ground. The two wrestled with each other, barely containing their laughter as they tumbled across the grass outside Horde. Catra pinned Adora by the arms and smiled triumphantly._

_“Ooooh, fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!”, they heard from the other kids._

_Catra immediately jumped off. “What the hell, Rogelio? We were just playing. Keep it down or—”_

_“Catra! How dare you!”_

_Catra froze up. Weaver’s voice cut through her like a knife. The awful woman hurried over, pulling Adora up from the ground and dusting off the grassy scuffs on her knees. “Oh my, what did she do to you?”_

_Adora tensed up, like she always did. “We-we were just playing...”_

_“And Catra hurt you? Typical.”_

_“What? No!” Catra protested. “Tell her, Adora!”_

_Weaver stood up. “Enough!” She grabbed Catra by the arm and pulled her towards the door. “I will make you learn, child.”_

_Catra tried to struggle against the grip but it failed like usual. “Let me go!”_

_“This is for Adora’s own good, you menace.”_

_Catra caught one glimpse of Adora, pained but silent, as Weaver dragged her in and locked her away in the usual place. It was hours before Catra was let out again._

—— 

“Fuck!” Catra slammed the steering wheel and accidentally hit the horn. She didn’t need to fall into memories right now. Maybe if she could just get a stupid answer from stupid Adora then she’d stop thinking about Horde.

Before she could wallow any longer, she got out and headed towards the buildings. The map was a pain to follow. Catra refused to ask someone for help so stumbled around looking for the library building for ten minutes. From there she figured out the right way to go. 34B, Medieval History with a Professor Spella - that was the room she needed.

Catra found the building, an old brick one with a clock ticking above the entrance, and slowly walked up the steps. No one guessed that she had no business here. To them she looked like just another student stumbling around the campus. She was grateful none of the doors were locked with ID cards.

Down the corridor and up to the second floor, Catra began to have second thoughts. 

_You’re such an idiot._

_This was a stupid idea._

_No one ever cares. Everyone always leaves. Isn’t that enough of an answer for you?_

She stopped in the hall. For a moment she almost did listen to the voice telling her to turn around. 

_So what if this is a stupid idea? What more do you even have to lose at this point?_

Putting it that way was enough. Catra kept going, pushing through the doors and turning the corner to where the map said the room would be.

Who else would be there to greet her but Sparkles herself?

The girl still had her pink hair but was in a less obnoxious pink hoodie and white jeans. She hadn’t noticed Catra yet and was too busy talking to a boy in a crop top - Midriff, Catra had already decided - outside the class. She’d seen him on Saturday too.

Catra let the corridor door shut behind her. The sound was enough to get their attention.

“Yeah but I don’t—” Sparkles trailed off as she recognised who’d just walked in. In a flash, Sparkles pushed Midriff aside and marched towards Catra with a pointed finger. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Catra smirked. “Awh, not happy to see me again, Sparkles?”

“Cut it out! Get out of here!”

“Well I’m not here for you.”

“If you think we’re letting you anywhere near Adora then you’re an idiot!””

Seeing the fury in the precious little girl’s eyes was so amusing. “You do have some fangs, Sparkles. I’m impressed. What with the whole pink thing going on I thought you’d be less of a fighter.”

Sparkles’ face was filled with rage. “Oh, I’ll show you a fighter!”

“Glimmer!” Midriff came in from the side, pulling the girl away as Catra watched with a smirk. “Not now.” The guy looked Catra up and down and scrunched his nose. “What are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be on campus.”

“I’m…” Catra suddenly couldn’t look at them. “I want to speak to Adora.”

Sparkles struggled out of her friend’s grasp. “I think you’ve said enough to her already.”

True, Catra had said plenty of what she’d wanted to. She’d said other things that had poured out in the moment. Some of it she even meant, too. The rest of it… well, Catra tried not to think too hard about it. This was about getting Adora to explain herself. Catra didn’t owe her a damn thing.

Just then, the class door opened. A stream of unfamiliar faces poured out. More preppy college kids with perfect smiles and happy faces. 

“Get out of here!” 

Catra waved her hand dismissively in Sparkles’ face. “I don’t need your permission.”

The crowd swamped around them. Fourty or so kids flooded the corridor and Catra didn’t even try to move out of the way. A few muttered about how rude she was but it didn’t bother her one bit. 

As the last of the students filed out, Catra felt a pang of panic. _No Adora?_

“Huh,” she tried not to sound disappointed. She wasn’t disappointed, of course. Not at all. “I guess she’s not here.”

With perfect timing, one last student stepped outside. Adora was in grey jeans with a red jacket zipped up over a white shirt. A bag hung lazily from one arm as the other clutched a bundle of papers. She still looked beautiful.

“Sorry,” Adora explained without looking up from her papers, sounding tired. “Professor Casta and I were talking about my…” She stopped, taking a second to look at an obviously furious Sparkles and terrified Midriff. Adora almost asked what was wrong before her eyes settled on Catra. Their gazes met again.

The air was sucked out of the room. Adora’s eyes went wide and for a moment Catra thought there might be a repeat of Saturday; an ignorant, misguided attempt to act like nothing had happened between them.

Thankfully, Adora wasn’t completely dumb. Her shoulders slumped and her eyes narrowed. Catra could see the weakness behind the caution. It was a broken, unsteady weariness that Catra knew all too well.

In that moment, Catra couldn’t help it. Whether to mock or to annoy or something else, Catra uttered two words she’d not put together since they were happy little kids.

“Hey, Adora.”

They didn’t come out half as confident as she’d hoped.

* * *

It didn’t sound like it used to. Catra had always said it so playfully before. It had almost been a catchphrase back then. This time was different. It sounded more like the times Adora would find Catra crying in their room after another day of Weaver’s attention. Weak, scared, vulnerable. 

“What are you doing here?” Adora managed.

Catra’s eyes fell to the floor. “I, uh,” she cleared her throat, “I wanted to speak to you.”

Every conflicting emotion battled for dominance. To run away, to beg for forgiveness for the pain she’d caued, to hide behind Bow and Glimmer, to stand firm and tall for whatever else Catra had to say. Adora didn’t know which instinct would win. She didn’t know which instinct she _wanted_ to win.

“How did you find me?” She settled on delaying tactics.

“Entrapta.” Of course, it had to be her. “I didn’t ask her to hack into the system and download your schedule but,” Catra waved the paper in her hand, “that’s Entrapta, I guess.”

_Oh no._ Entrapta had told Catra. Well, Adora had wanted her to tell Catra that she was sorry, but that was besides the point. Had Entrapta told her Adora cried? Did Entrapta admit to telling Adora that Catra really wasn’t okay?

“I can’t believe you stalked her just to ambush her again!”

“I just said I didn’t ask—”

“Glimmer.” Adora stepped forward, making sure Saturday’s altercation didn’t repeat itself. “I’ve got this.” She took a deep breath. “You said you wanted to talk to me. So… talk.”

Catra looked incredulously at Bow and Glimmer, and around at the mostly empty corridor. She tried to look angry but there was a distantly familiar glint in her eye. It was the same look Catra had when one of the other kids’ insults had cut a bit too close to home, or when Weaver was particularly harsh when they had an audience. She was vulnerable but didn’t want to show it. It seemed that Adora could still read some of the things in Catra, even now.

“Not here.” The strong tone of her voice probably would have hidden that fear from anyone else. “Privately.”

Glimmer muttered under her breath but Adora didn’t have to tell her twice. As much as Glimmer might want to clock Catra in the jaw, she would respect that this was Adora’s choice.

It was a difficult choice. Part of her almost didn’t question it. A piece of her wanted to accept and go off with some delusional hope of fixing everything with one conversation. That part of Adora, the stupid, naïve, childish part, was put in line quickly. Even if Catra wanted to sort things out with Adora, even if Adora deserved to have that forgiveness, it wouldn’t be an easy path. 

Then again, Catra had said she never wanted to see Adora again, yet here she was. Not by accident but by choice. It was possible that Catra wanted to unleash another tirade of vicious insults to rip up the last shreds of Adora’s spirit that she hadn’t already crushed. No doubt Glimmer assumed that much.

Adora couldn’t accept that though. Catra’s words had cut deeper than anything Adora had known, but her feelings for her old friend were so much deeper. If there was even the tiniest hope of something good, any improvement, any chance of beginning to fix things, Adora couldn’t let it slip away.  
  
She’d lost Catra once. She wouldn’t do it again.

“Okay.”   
  
Her friends weren’t thrilled.

“Uh, Adora? Are you sure that’s wise?”  
  
“You can't be serious! After everything she said?”

“Guys,” Adora turned to them, “I’ll be fine. Just trust me, okay?”

Glimmer sighed exaggeratedly but didn’t argue. 

“I’m not going to kill her, Sparkles,” Catra said wryly, not helping the situation one bit.

“She could beat you up if you tried anyway,” Glimmer bit back.

“Knock it off you two,” Adora grumbled. “If you want to talk, then fine. Where?”

Catra’s cocky smile faded for Adora. “I’ve got my car. We can go, I don’t know, somewhere.”

There were those nerves again. This wasn’t the same Catra that had torn her down the other night. It wasn’t the same Catra that she’d left at the orphanage either. This was something else. After eight years, Adora shouldn’t have been surprised that she’s changed.

Bow grabbed her by the shoulder. “Call us if you need us.”

“Yeah, I will.” 

Feeling much more vulnerable now, Adora hugged her arms around herself and looked expectantly at the other girl. Catra glanced once more at Glimmer and Bow before settling on Adora. Their gazes pulled apart just as quickly as they met. 

“Come on, I’m parked outside.” Catra turned around, not looking back as she pushed through the corridor door and towards the stairs.

Adora sighed, trying to prepare herself for what came next, and followed.

She caught up quickly with big strides. There was no spring in either of their steps. Adora came up beside Catra but they barely acknowledged each other. Catra, ever the polite one, didn’t even hold the doors open for Adora as they came outside. Adora merely followed Catra to a small maroon hatchback hidden as far away from the other cars as possible.

Then it was just them. Adora shut the passenger door and the realisation hit her like a train. Her and Catra, alone, stuck in this car together. After everything they’d been through, after all those years, after every bit of pain on both ends, they were here.

Catra’s hands rested on the steering wheel. She hadn’t started up the car yet. 

“So, where are we going?”

“I don’t know.” Catra paused, glancing uncertainly at her. “Honestly I wasn’t sure I’d get this far.”

Adora pursed her lips. “Sunset Point, overlooking the city. You know it?” It would be quiet this time of day. She didn’t want an audience for… whatever this turned out to be.

Catra nodded. “Sure.”

They said nothing as Catra drove away. It was painful. To be this close again, alone for the first time in years, and not even know what to say. Any word Adora uttered risked sending Catra into another tirade, and Adora hated thinking that of her. Catra was her friend, not a time bomb, but she wasn’t going to stumble into another world of hurt by misspeaking.

Adora settled on silence, stealing glances at her as Catra drove. Without the club lights or street lights and all the chaos of Saturday, Adroa could finally see her. Catra had always been pretty, but she’d grown to be downright gorgeous. Adora quickly shoved away the more inappropriate thoughts from Saturday night before she’d realised the stranger she’d been ogling was Catra. 

Yet there was something profoundly wrong under that beauty. Catra had never been a smiling child but the anger Adora saw in her now was new. The girl’s fists clenched around the wheel and she cursed under her breath at every minor inconvenience as she drove. There were the tiniest signs of it around the car too: nail marks in the steering wheel, a broken dial or two on the radio - signs that this anger and frustration were nothing rare. 

Adora couldn’t ever be scared of her, but she did feel for her. All that anger and confusion, all the things Adora had once been able to help her with, seemed to hang over Catra like a storm. A storm that had been raging unchecked for years.

“Are you going to keep staring at me the whole time?” Catra glanced at her as she drove. It was blunt but not quite angry. Adora wasn’t sure how much of a good sign that was anymore.

“Right. Sorry. It’s just… you know… yeah.”

Catra laughed through her nose for some reason and focused back on the road. Catra definitely wasn’t as angry as Saturday. Maybe that was a given, since Catra came seeking her out in the first place. It didn’t seem like Catra had come to yell at her again at least, which begged the question: what had Catra come here for?

Probably not to apologise. Catra struggled with that growing up and, according to Entrapta, still did. As much as Adora wanted it, it didn’t seem like Catra was here to throw open the arms of friendship either.

Which left the most uncomfortable answer: explanation. A difficult one. She wanted Adora to look her in the eye and explain why she left and never came back. 

Adora had prepared that explanation a thousand times, of course. After leaving Horde, returning became an ever more difficult, eventually impossible, option. Adora lay awake so many nights thinking of how she’d ever explain herself to Catra. Many of those explanations had been rehearsed in the last few days. Despite all that practice though, Adora wasn’t sure she could handle the real thing.

They pulled up to Sunset Point at the perfect time to see its namesake over the city below. The sun would sink lazily below the horizon for a few minutes yet, a beautiful backdrop to a messy, difficult conversation. Catra seemed to drag out the process of stopping and cutting the engine as if she didn’t really want this conversation either. 

Adora watched her sink back in the chair, fold her arms, and stare rigidly ahead. Nervous and defensive. A familiar pose, but one she’d only ever used for the other kids in Horde when they were around at a bad time. She never acted that way to Adora. Another reminder of the trust and work that had been worn away.

Adora hugged her arm around herself and looked down to her feet. “So…”

“Why didn’t you bother with me?” Catra asked, voice steady and low as she refused to look at Adora. “Why didn’t you even try?”

_Right for the throat._ Catra was never one to waste time. It was no surprise she went right for the hardest thing.

“I did try. I really tried to reach you. I wanted to come see you again.”

“Wanted. Tried.” Catra finally looked right at her and the cold, angry glare was almost too much to bear. “Didn’t.”

“It’s not that simple, Catra.”

“Oh, really?” Catra scoffed. “Explain it to me then, Adora. Go on. I can’t wait for it.”

Adora bit her tongue, nearly snapping back. Catra was hurt and defensive, but Adora refused to fight fire with fire. Catra deserved better from her. She took a deep breath, focused, and promised herself to be honest and complete with the answer she gave.

“I wrote,” Adora started. “Several times. I'm guessing you didn't get the letters.” She never had gotten replies.

Catra rolled her eyes, as if she’d expected that answer. “What do you think? Weaver never gave us mail. She probably burned them, you should have known that if you have it a second of thought, Adora.”

“I didn’t really have many options,” Adora replied. “She never returned our calls. I think she blocked Mara’s number in the end.”

“Duh, Mara stole her favourite little treasure.” Catra glared at her again. “So you sent a few letters and called a few times? That’s it.”

“No, that’s not it.” Adora bit her tongue again. God, she’d forgotten how obstinate Catra could be. “I couldn’t exactly ring you personally and god knows Weaver didn’t let the kids near the internet. I did try social media for years, thinking maybe you’d find a way on there, but I never found you.”

“Don’t have it. I don’t need some Silicon Valley creep having my data.”

“I figured that, Catra,” Adora sighed. “I found Kyle but he didn’t know where you were. He said he got adopted a little after me and hadn’t seen you since.”

Catra paused, arching an eyebrow. “Wait, little snot-nose wimpy Kyle?”

“With that crush on Rogelio,” Adora said without thinking. She only remembered that because the two of them teased Kyle about it for months. It was a nice memory. One of the more innocent ones. If Catra remembered it, she didn’t show it. “Yeah, well he didn’t know. I never found anyone else.”

Catra mulled over the answers for a few seconds. “Well you still knew where I lived.”

“One and a half thousand miles away, yeah,” Adora replied. “Sileneas is half a continent away, I couldn’t exactly hop back on the plane to come see you right away. That takes time and money and—

“Too expensive, really?” Catra snapped. “That’s the excuse?”

“No! Just let me finish a goddamn point, Catra!” 

Catra shut up. Honestly, Adora was surprised she did. One snap in the wrong place could spell disaster for this whole thing. But Catra was being stubborn and Adora needed a minute to just talk without a pointed comment from her.

“The plan was for me to fly out and visit a couple months after I left,” Adora began. “Mara just moved for a new job and she wasn’t rich, but she thought she could save up enough and get some time off to come take me to see you. But things... changed.

“Razz… I mean, Mara’s mother, she got ill. First it was dementia, then she got, um…” Adora swallowed, hating that rancid word more than anything else. “You know, what my mother had.”

“Oh…” Catra understood, at least. Not that Adora ever doubted it, but the way Catra’s face softened as they skirted that old issue was a sign that not every bit of Catra’s care was gone. 

“We had to look after her. It was… a lot. Mara was working and she tried to get time off where she could, but I ended up needing to help out. That took time and stress and the bills, it was all just…” Adora shook her head. “The planned trip got put off a few months, then a few more. All the while I was ringing and writing and searching for you and it wasn’t getting me anywhere and I… ugh!”

Nerves hit as Adora continued. She had to remind herself that it was still Catra beside her. Years apart and a whole lot of issues, but still Catra. Adora knew, instinctively, that she didn’t have to hide anything. Not from her.

She pulled her legs up, resting them on the chair, hugging them tightly as if they’d be some comfort. “Then the attacks started.”

“Attacks?” Catra asked. It wasn’t quite soft, but was that… concern in there?

“Panic attacks. Anxiety, whatever. I don’t know if it was Razz’s illness or the move or…” She glanced over to Catra for the briefest second. Or losing you. They started a couple months after I left. Things would set me off and I’d just…”

“I understand,” Catra said, bluntly but… well, understandingly. It was the sort of answer Adora had only ever gotten from the people who’d struggled with those things too.

Adora looked at her and found Catra emulating her position in the chair. Legs pulled tight to her chest, chin resting on her knees. Adora had picked up that habit from Catra, hadn’t she? Of course she’d associate any position of comfort with her.

“I had to see doctors about it. There were meds and a therapist too. A mess all round, really. It’s… manageable, but for a long time it was hard. Anything about Brightmoon - my parents, Horde, Weaver - it set me off. I couldn’t have come back without risking myself.”

“Weaver did a number on you too, huh?”

“More than Weaver.” She knew Catra understood that. “I’m not proud of it. A stronger person… a _better_ person wouldn’t have let it get in the way. But… I’m not that person. I wasn’t that person.” Adora blinked back shameful tears. “I know I let you down because of it—”

“Don’t, Adora.” Catra shook her head. “Don’t. You… had issues, okay? I get it. I’m not exactly Miss Mental Stability either.”

Adora winced. “I mean, I—”

“Jeez, Adora, it was a joke.” Catra wasn’t laughing, but maybe it wasn’t about the humour. Different people coped with it in different ways. “But, seriously, trauma and shit? I get it.”

“That doesn’t make what happened okay.”

“Didn’t say it did. Just that I get it. Doesn’t mean I forgive you, I just understand you.”

It felt like a deflection, but what more could Adora expect? Would she rather Catra be angry and chew her out again? Did she expect open-armed forgiveness? Resigned acceptance without forgiveness was always the more reasonable expectation.

That silence hung for a few minutes. Adora had barely noticed the sun disappear, covered by the mass of buildings on the horizon. Brightmoon could look beautiful, so long as Adora didn’t think about some parts of it.

“Why’d you come back then?” Catra asked after a while. “If this place was so bad, what changed?”

“Time. Therapy. Medication.” Adora leaned her head against the window. “It’s still hard sometimes. There’s still some things that I need to do here but I’m just not there yet.” Her old home, her parents’ graves. Horde had been one too, until recently. “BMU was the best place for my course and I decided that I couldn’t let my hatred for this place take anything else.” She glanced nervously at Catra. “It had already taken too much.”

“You ever go back to Horde?” Catra didn’t seem angry now, instead she was interested. 

“A couple weeks ago.” That answer drew a surprised look. “I was looking for you. I knew you were too old to still be there when I first came back to the city, so I never had a reason to go back. But I started to wonder if maybe there was anything there to help me find you. There wasn’t, but I tried.”

“Surprised no one burned it down yet.” Catra huffed. “The bitch still there?”

“Unfortunately.” Adora hated the way Weaver’s presence had roused old habits. Karma would catch up with that woman one day, Adora knew it. “She said the last time she saw you was when you left in some stranger’s car swearing at her all the way up the path.” Adora smiled slightly at that thought.

Then, Catra laughed. “Shit, guess I do have one good memory of Weaver.”

_There she was._ That brief moment of laughter, fleeting as it was, that was Catra. _Her_ Catra. The loud-mouthed, stubborn, teasing Catra that she’d spent eight years with. She slipped through Adora’s fingers as quickly as she’d appeared, but that glimpse was all it took for Adora to know that Catra was still in there, somewhere. Buried deep, wounded and hurt, but still there. Whether Adora would ever be able to help her out was another issue. Seconds later, Catra was silent and brooding as she waited for Adora to say something else.

“Weaver said something about you being adopted but it not working out,” Adora prompted, carefully. 

“That’s one way to describe it.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” Catra narrowed her eyes at her, a spike of anger sneaking into her voice. “Why would I want to talk to you about it, Adora? It’s none of your business.”

The rejection stung, but her volatility wasn’t unexpected. This conversation could only ever be a minefield for both of them. “Right, sorry, I just wanted to—”

“No, it’s…” Catra heaved a sigh. “The adopters piss me off, alright? I don’t want to talk about them.”

It was no apology but it was a de-escalation. A de-escalation entirely of Catra’s own choice. That was progress, wasn’t it? That Catra recognised she’d been too harsh with Adora and walked it back? It wasn’t much progress but Adora was going to cling to it for all it was worth; and it was worth everything to her.

“Of course, sorry.” Adora gave a few moments pause, waiting for any reaction. “What about Scorpia and the others? You seem like good friends. How long have you known each other?”

Catra sighed as if she was considering whether to answer at all. “A couple months. Eight, I think. I used to work at Target with Scorpia and she has a habit of taking in strays. Entrapta was Scorpia’s friends for years and I guess she’s mine now too. Same with Perfuma.”

_Scorpia, Entrapta, and Perfuma._ They did seem like good friends. Scorpia had been kind and apologetic, Entrapta was odd but seemed nice enough; she’d been forgivinig helpful for Adora. As for Perfuma, Adora did know her already. Adora and the others frequented Plumeria enough to be on first-name basis with most of the staff, including Perfuma. Adora didn’t want to dwell on just how close she’d been to finding Catra all this time, just ignorant of where to look.

“It’s nice.” Adora risked something more earnest. “You deserve good friends. They seem great.”

Catra side-eyed her but didn’t argue. “How do you know Entrapta anyway? She doesn’t really mix with people. Plus I saw your timetable and I know you’re not a tech student. You never could be.”

“Hey, I could be if I wanted to.”

“Yeah. Right.”

Was that a joke? Catra wasn’t laughing, but it didn’t seem like it was meant to be cruel? _Focus, Adora. Just let the conversation flow. Like old times._

“No, she’s in Bow’s tech classes. She kinda stands out, so he talks about her sometimes.”

Catra arched an eyebrow. “Bow?”

“Oh, right. The guy from earlier. Short hair, always wearing crop tops.”

“You mean Midriff?” 

Adora froze. A nickname. Catra used to give them to everyone growing up. Adora had been ‘princess’ or ‘dumbass’, as the situation demanded. Another tiny glimpse of the girl she used to know.

“What about the other chick?” Catra asked. “You know, the one I, uh, met on Saturday.”

“Glimmer.” Adora didn’t need to be reminded that two of her favourite people had nearly knocked each other out. 

Surprisingly, Catra snorted a laugh. “Bow and Glimmer? What the hell kinda names do your friends have?”

Adora’s instincts still worked, after all these years. Catra seemed to have her mind set to constantly prod her at every moment when they were kids. Adora had learned long ago that the best way to respond to Catra’s teasing was to throw it right back at her.

“Jeez, I don’t know. What kinds of names are those, Miss Catra ‘my surname is the Spanish word for meow’ Maullar?”

A pretty smirk crept onto Catra’s face. “That’s just a low blow.”

“Miss Meow shouldn’t throw stones in glasshouses.”

This was it. This was familiar. This was what it felt like to have Catra back, if only in the tiniest sense. The effortless teasing between two people who trusted each other not to push the wrong button. 

Catra shook her head and rolled her eyes, knowing not to keep pushing. “You’re the worst.”

_The worst._ And those words did, in fact, press the wrong button after all.

* * *

It had been the wrong thing to say. Adora tensed up as soon as Catra had said it, and Catra knew exactly why. 

_You were the worst of all of them._ She’d said it on Saturday just to hurt Adora. Of course, Adora had taken that comment and committed it to memory.

This was what happened when Catra got careless. She’d let her defences slip as they talked, listening to Adora’s explanations that, frankly, Catra had already known to expect. There was no way Adora could easily get in touch with her without coming back. And the stuff about this Razz person and Adora’s panic attacks? Not her fault. 

It hurt. It still hurt like hell that Adora left. But… maybe Scorpia had been right. Maybe blaming Adora had always been stupid. A twelve year old kid can only do so much. Maybe Catra had always known that.

Anger had faded quickly. After so many years of seething bitterness, it hadn’t taken ten minutes for Catra to be able to laugh with Adora again. It betrayed the truth Catra should have known for so long: she never wanted to hate Adora. She’d never wanted to let her go or forget the good times they had. It hurt like hell but, when all was said and done, those years with Adora had been perhaps the best of her life. Adora had been - maybe still was - the only person who’d ever understood her.

That terrified her.

All that learning, all that pain, all that work to protect herself from getting hurt again and she’d not been strong enough to keep up her walls. She’d slipped. She’d given Adora time and gone back looking for her. She’d let herself enjoy something she knew she shouldn’t have. All this time and she was still so easily taken in

This was exactly why she never should have come. It was too easy to fall into the trap of believing again. Like a stupid kid unable to put two and two together, she let herself enjoy something good when she knew life would always find a way to rip it away. 

The worst thing of all? She wanted to believe it. She’d wanted to enjoy the teasing and have that happiness she'd missed for so long. She wanted to have Adora’s explanations make sense because then she wouldn’t have to keep hating the only person she’d ever, honestly, truly loved. 

“Did you mean it?” Adora asked, voice shaking. She was crying now. _Great._

“Did I mean what?” She knew what.

“Was I worse than the others? Was I really worse than Weaver or those families or—” Adora looked at her then, tears streaming down her face, weak and vulnerable. Catra’s heart twisted treacherously. 

“I… I wanted to mean it.”

“That’s not an answer.”

Catra couldn’t bear to look at Adora like that but the image burned in her mind even when she looked away. It ripped through her defences and made her feel just as weak and vulnerable as Adora.

“You hurt the most.” It was probably the most honest thing Catra had said all evening. “I never knew my parents, I never really got to know the adopters, and I never expected anything more from Weaver, but you? We… I...” Those words didn’t need to be spoken. Adora would know. “You were everything I had, Adora, and then you just left. So yeah, it hurt the most.”

“I… see.” Adora brushed tears away, letting out a stifled sob. 

It hurt. All of it. Her parents, Weaver, Adora leaving, the adopters, everything else, and… it hurt seeing Adora like this too. Despite everything that happened, it felt wrong. Old instincts she’d long-thought dead wanted her to reach across the car and hold Adora the way she used to when things got too much for her.

Catra couldn’t do that. She wouldn’t let herself do that. But surely there was something she could do that was better than this?

“You weren’t the worst.” The words fell out before she could think. “It hurt the most, but it wasn’t… you weren’t as bad. The others never even tried to be different, but you did. You were different. What we had was…” Catra shut her eyes, scared that seeing Adora would make her doing something stupid. “It was good. While it was there.”

Adora sniffled. “It was.” Her voice was still wavering but the hope still showed. Catra didn’t let herself see whatever glimmer of hope was in Adora's face right now. “I meant everything I said back then, Catra. You were the one good thing I had and you meant more to me than anything.”

“I know.” It felt good to say, even though Catra knew it wasn’t supposed to. “I meant it too.”

It was nearly too much. Hell, it probably was too much, but Catra was dumb. Adora had come back and she cared and every rule Catra thought she’d learned seemed stupid in retrospect. Here, with Adora before her, free of the shock and alcohol-induced haze, the broken child that had never really left took over. A child that missed Adora so, so much. A child that Catra knew she couldn’t let out for too long.

“And what about the promises to always be there for each other?” Adora asked.

“I think we’ve both broken those promises.”

Adora hesitated and Catra prayed she wouldn’t do exactly what Catra knew she’d do. “We could make new ones.”

And there it was. The choice Catra knew Adora would thrust upon her. Perhaps the choice she wanted Adora to offer. Catra knew it would come, and she already knew the only answer she could let herself give.

Maybe a healthier person would have made a better choice. Someone not so broken, stupid, or cowardly as her would have taken that chance for what it was: the single, brightest spark of hope she’d seen in years.

But Catra wasn’t that person. She was a coward. She was broken. She was stupid. So, Catra did what Catra did best: shove people away. 

If she let Adora back in, she knew how it’d end. It’d be fun for a time, but life would find a way to screw things up. Adora would graduate and move away and be successful, and life would snatch her away. Or Catra would keep declining, being so much of a problem that even Adora couldn’t handle it. Or something else would come up, anything at all, because life never gave Catra anything, it only took, and offered only what it was setting up to snatch out from under her soon enough. She’d lose Adora all over again and Catra didn’t think she could lose anyone else and keep going.

“No.” If there was a word Catra hated uttering more than any other in her life, it was that one word at that specific moment. “No, Adora. I can’t.”

Each time Catra thought she’d broken Adora to her lowest point, she surprised herself. The broken shock written on her quivering face was unbearable. “N-no?”

Catra shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut. “No. I had my explanation. I get it. Now you’ve got your life and I’ve got mine. Let’s leave it at that, okay?”

Adora’s eyes searched her frantically, as if the answer she wanted was just hiding away somewhere. Perhaps it was, but Catra had buried it deep enough to hide.

“So that’s it?” Adora asked, breathless and broken. “We just go our separate ways and never see each other again?”

“Please, Adora. Just… let me have this.”

Adora’s lips wavered with an unspoken plea. She didn’t need to say it because it was written all over her face, in those tear-stained eyes and twitching lips. “If that’s what you want I’ll… okay. I’ll… yeah.”

A piece of her thought Adora would fight more. Then again, from the looks of things, Adora was fighting to keep herself coherent, and losing that fight badly. Adora wanted Catra back, that much was crystal clear. Yet she respected Catra’s wishes. She put aside her own desires and respected Catra’s choice, even as it ripped her heart in two. 

_She still loves you, doesn’t she? Just as much as before._

So Catra started up the car, knowing every extra second spent here was a second that could spell disaster, and began taking them home. There was nothing more to say; at least, there was nothing more Catra could let herself say without making some mistake. 

She was breaking Adora, she knew that. It was for the best, Catra told herself. It’d only end in heartbreak once again.

Adora did a terrible job of hiding her sniffling. Catra glanced at the girl’s reflection in the window, lit intermittently by streetlights they passed, and saw red eyes and cheeks streamed with tears. Adora managed to choke out some directions and put on a brave face by the time Catra needed to know where to go.

She considered making a wry comment on Whispering Woods being a posh place to live, but any joke right now felt tasteless. Instead she waited for Adora to point out a house and mumble to stop. The other girl had stopped crying at least.

Catra’s car squeaked as it drew to a halt. The curtains shifted in the house and a flash of pink hair popped up and disappeared in a second. Of course, Adora’s friends were checking that Catra had really brought her back and not buried Adora in the woods or something. She didn’t switch off the engine. They sat for a few long, painful seconds.

“So…” Adora swallowed. “This is it, huh?”

“This is it.” _Because you’re too weak to let it be anything else._

This was where one of them would have done something rash, if life was anything like the stories. A final goodbye turned into a sudden outburst of love and healing. Naturally, Catra wasn’t getting anything like that— _wait, Adora?_

Adora turned in her seat and fumbled for her pocket. She pulled a pen out and frantically scribbled something down on a rough piece of paper. 

“Take it,” Adora said, handing her the paper. “Just in case.”

Catra wrinkled her nose as she read it. “A phone number?”

“Mine.”

She sighed and squeezed her eyes closed. “Adora, I’m not—”

“No, listen.” Adora’s firmness caught her off-guard. There was something Adora wanted to say and she damn well was going to say it. “I left you before, there’s no changing that. Regardless of why I did it or why I never came back, the fact is that you went through so much and I couldn’t help you. I wasn’t there all those times you needed me. I’m not going to force myself back into your life; I respect your choice, even if it hurts.” She paused there, composing herself. “But I am never letting you think for a second that there’s nowhere you can turn when you need it. I know you don’t want me around, but just in case, take it. Tomorrow or next year or twenty years from now, I am always going to be there if you need me, okay? I don’t care if it’s just someone to listen to you or if you need a roof over your head or anything, I’ll only ever be a phone call away.” 

Adora made it hard. She really did. Not reaching across the passenger seat and pulling that stupid, beautiful, wonderful woman in for a hug and never letting go was one of the hardest things Catra could imagine. 

Catra deflected the seriousness as best she could, praying Adora wouldn’t see how her hands were shaking. “You’re going to have the same number in twenty years?”

The girl laughed, a weak but pure laugh, brushing a single tear from her cheek. “I’ll do my best. And I doubt there’s many Adora Grayskulls in the world. I’ve just gotta make sure I do something important enough to make me an easy search.”

“You ain’t getting that sort of fame writing history books, princess.”

That nickname just had to slip out then, didn’t it? Her nickname for _her_ Adora. Her safe, steady, loving, understanding Adora. The one she’d lost years ago and now had sitting right there barely three feet from her. 

Every thought like that ripped Catra in two. She needed to keep Adora out, needed to avoid another disaster. Life would find a way to screw this up if Catra let herself believe in it, so not caring was safer. Maybe if Catra repeated that to herself enough it wouldn’t feel so fucking awful to do it.

“Please,” Adora pleaded, “just take it. I can’t stand the thought of you not having someone you can fall back on..”

Catra should have refused if she was really going to protect herself. She didn’t. The phone number ended up in her glove compartment, out of sight but Catra knew it’d never be out of mind.

“Okay.” Catra gripped the steering wheel again. This needed to stop before it got too much. “You, um… you should probably…”

“Yeah, yeah.” Adora took a bracing breath and reached for the door handle. “Thank you, Catra. For everything. I hope things work out for you. You deserve it.”

Their eyes met then and a thousand words passed unspoken. Adora’s face softened, understanding intuitively what Catra would never say aloud. 

Then, Adora stepped out and closed the door behind her. 

Catra didn’t let herself linger. She started the car a little too quickly and pulled away. The irony wasn’t lost on her as she chanced one final glance in the rear-view mirror, seeing Adora watching her disappear into the night. It hurt all the more knowing that this time it was no one’s choice but Catra’s. She was the one walking out, knowing that it would crush the spirit of someone who deserved so much better.

Adora loved her. She’d settled that question quickly. Adora loved her, just as much as she always had. Even though Adora clearly wanted Catra back, she’d respected Catra’s decision to let her go. She hadn’t argued or gotten angry, just accepted. Adora put Catra’s comfort so far above her own desires that it was almost saintly. 

_You’re better off this way. You can’t get hurt again._

Really? Was that the excuse she was going to use? Because this felt a whole lot like getting fucking hurt again.

It was a mercy that Entrapta was, well, Entrapta. Any regular person would have seen that the person picking them up was falling apart at the seams. Entrapta rambled on about some tech nonsense as Catra drove them away from BMU, hardly stopping to breathe until they were nearly back at the girl’s house.

As Entrapta’s house came into view, she quieted and fiddled with her hair. “Did everything go okay with Adora?”

Entrapta wasn’t supposed to pry. Entrapta never pushed on anything, but to do it now? To be able to tell? 

“Not really. But it’s done now.” Catra wasn’t going to lie to Entrapta. To a friend. 

Then, Entrapta reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. “It’ll be okay.” 

It was over in a flash and Entrapta was soon tumbling out of the car and mumbling goodbye. Catra grunted a response but couldn’t string together anything more. It was such a tiny gesture from Entrapta but anything from her was so unexpected. 

What was this? What was happening? Adora, Scorpia, Entrapta, Perfuma - all of them stepping in, asking, thinking, trying for her. 

Catra shook her head and banished those thoughts. No, she needed to get home and just be done with this whole day.

Scorpia was home when Catra walked in. Hardly unexpected. That Scorpia’s face lit up with glee as she entered wasn’t new either, really. It felt new though, like Catra was only now noticing it.

“Hey, wildcat! Perfuma has some great news!”

“Not getting married, are you?” she asked limply.

“No! I mean, sure, one day, hopefully, but not the point. Perfuma just took over in Plumeria.”

“The coffee shop, right?” Catra vaguely remembered it being mentioned over the last few months. Perfuma had been angling for ownership for a while now. “Uh, great. Congrats to her.”

“It gets better! She says there’s an opening and she’d love you to have it. No interview or application. She knows you can handle it and would love to have you on the team!”

Catra blinked, too numb to feel much of anything. “She’s giving me a job?”

“Isn’t that great?” Scorpia squealed. “I know you’ve been down but I think this would be great for you. Life has its rough spots but things always get better in the end, right?”

Catra remembered the phone number stashed in her car. The feeling of Entrapta’s sympathetic hand on her shoulder. The way Scorpia’s eyes lit up as she walked through the door. 

“Sure. Whatever.” _As if things ever got better for her._

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People have fairly asked why Adora didn’t contact Catra. There’s a long list of reasons here. I’ll hone in particularly on the issues of Razz’s health and Adora’s health since I can speak from personal experience on both and they do need some clarification. A close family member falling seriously ill and needing constant care is the sort of thing that’s hard to fully appreciate without living it. It wrecks your world, turns home into a struggle, and can easily put the rest of your life on hold, all while watching someone you love struggle even more. That it messes with an already traumatised and abused Adora shouldn’t be a surprise. As for panic attacks and anxiety, those are complicated too. Those things are all the harder because a piece of you knows it’s irrational and you beat yourself up for everything it stops you doing. However, as someone who went from having near-daily panic attacks for years to not having a single one for about a year now, I can tell you it can get better. Therapy, support, reflection, sometimes medication - they can help change things. Hopefully Adora is a little nod towards that too. These things aren’t ‘justifications’ for Adora never getting back to Catra, but they are explanations. There’s not much ‘just’ about Adora and Catra’s lives here, so the best they can do is understand and try to overcome what life throws at them.


	6. Strangeness

Catra’s first day at Plumeria began at eleven the next morning. She immediately suspected Perfuma had let her start late to avoid the tardiness that had gotten her fired from Target. Probably a good move.

Last night with Adora was still raw. It was easier to push it aside and not think about it than it was to actually deal with the swirl of contradictory emotions. Fogging her mind. Should she be relieved that Adora respected her wish never to see each other again? Hadn’t that been what Catra had wanted for years? The fact Adora never came back still hurt, but Catra at least understood why now. Circumstance, trauma, practicality, Weaver - a number of things conspired to rip them apart. It wasn’t fair to blame Adora was it?

Truthfully, Catra wondered where her anger had gone. It wasn’t at Adora now, maybe it never was. It was there for Weaver and Hordak and others, sure, but usually her anger had something more visceral to latch onto. Target or unemployment or some stranger that was pissing her off and spilling her drink, but now? It felt strange. Like something was missing. Catra hated it.

Still, she pulled up to Plumeria on time. It was a quiet independent coffee shop, set up by Perfuma’s friend about a year or two ago. It was just outside of the city centre, not packed into a street, with a nice parking lot for the people that dropped by as they passed. There was some seating inside through the large glass windows and a decent effort to spruce the place up with ferns and flowers, but really it was a place you dropped into and came out of just as quickly. More customers but less exposure, which was always better. Catra always found that every extra second with a customer was an extra second they could piss you off. 

Perfuma was waiting for her inside. There wasn’t a full uniform, just a pink apron and hat with the store’s logo on it. The girl - Catra’s friend, she supposed - smiled as Catra walked in.

“Hey, Catra! So good to see you!” Perfuma hugged her. It was soft and delicate, not the crushing hugs Scorpia gave out. “You ready to get started?”

“Sure, sure.” She looked around. One customer sat at a table by the window, but it was quiet otherwise. It looked…  _ nice _ . Not as soulless and corporate as her past jobs had been.

Perfuma took a few minutes to show her around, not that there was much to show. The cafe, the counter with all the machines, food, and serving points, and a back area split between a tiny break room, a storage area, and an manager’s office. It couldn’t have been larger than their house.

Two other staff were on shift. A woman around Catra’s age that seemed to have caught Perfuma’s sunny disposition. Another was a moody teenager not long out of high-school, no doubt stumbling into this job right after graduating with no idea of what to do.  _ Hey, at least you finished school, kid. _

The machines were simple. Catra had expected a nightmare but, as it turned out, she knew a thing or two about coffee. Yeah, she’d have to learn the difference between the stupid menu names, but she could probably get a list and go off that. 

Then, Perfuma let her go. She had some managerial stuff to sort out and then Catra was on her own, along with the other two staff of course.

It was slow. Catra managed to hide behind the counter and do drinks for an hour or two, avoiding dealing with any customers. The inevitable came just after her lunch break when she was trapped alone with a customer. She braced herself for a Karen of unprecedented rudeness. She was disappointed. The customer ordered, got their drink, and then left.

_ Huh.  _

She got caught with a few more customers throughout the day. A few people were indecisive and one person returned a pastry that was too cold - Catra just handed them another that didn’t seem any warmer and they were fine with that - but there weren’t any real problems. It was fine. They were fine. Catra was doing fine here. 

It made Catra nervous. Something was off. This place, the smiling colleagues, the pleasant customers - something was wrong but she didn’t have a damn clue what it was.

Perfuma checked in on her a few times. Catra always brushed her off saying things were fine, because they were. Fine. Nothing had gone wrong yet. 

She was ready with another two word answer when Perfuma came again.

“Hey, Catra.”

“I’m fine,” Catra replied instantly.

“Oh good, I was about to close up anyway. Do you want to grab your things first?”

Catra looked up and blinked. Yeah, she knew it was getting late and they hadn’t had a customer for about half an hour, but Catra hadn’t been paying much attention. She’d been too busy waiting for… something to happen. 

“Oh, right. Yeah, I’ll just finish this.”

Okay, maybe that explained why they’d started cleaning down already. It wasn’t that she didn’t want the day to end or anything, it just felt like it shouldn’t have ended yet. Like something was supposed to happen but just didn’t.

Catra grabbed her things and a few minutes later was watching Perfuma lock up the doors.

“So did things go well?” Perfuma asked as she fiddled with the keys.

“Yeah, sure. It was… yeah.”

Perfuma pulled a concerned face. “Was something wrong?”

“No, everything was fine. Like… all of it. It was fine. Nothing went wrong.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It’s not. It’s just weird, I guess.” It was a dumb thought. She shrugged. “Shit, I don’t know.”

“Well, as long as it went well.” Perfuma packed the keys away and started heading towards her car right by the store. “Same time tomorrow? We’re doing the rotas this weekend so we can work out a shift pattern that works for you then.”

Catra nodded. “Sure. I’ll see you in the morning.”

The girl drove off with a smile, leaving Catra alone and a little lost as she headed back to her car. There was always something sobering about slamming the car door shut after a long day at work. Catra knew the feeling well. Usually it meant releasing a long-held breath - a breath that usually came out as a scream - and launching into a mental tirade about whatever problem work threw at her or whatever problem she had to go home too. It felt strange to sit there and have, well, nothing.

Work had been fine. Maybe her feet were a little sore and she was hungry, but that was it. And Scorpia had never been a crisis to go home too, not like Lonnie or Double Trouble had been. Perfuma was nice, maybe Catra could even call her a proper friend now rather than just a circumstantial one. Beyond that, nothing else was worth screaming about right now. She now had money coming in again, she no longer had to feel like a leech on Scorpia’s hospitality, Entrapta was a friend too, and Adora… well, Adora was best not thought about. Catra wasn’t angry at her anymore, at least, which was as good as resolved in her opinion, wasn’t it?

But her hands still gripped the steering wheel like it would run away from her at any second. Her feet still tapped nervously on the car floor. Catra still found her teeth gritted and shoulders braced every damn time she thought about those things.

Something was still wrong and she couldn’t for the life of her figure out what.

* * *

Adora had never been to the gym in the middle of the weekday before.

Sure, she could have if she wanted to - most of her classes were spread out enough that she often had hours of free time in the weekday - but she’s always spent that time studying or practicing on the field. She wasn’t feeling up to either of those these last few days.

She was only a mile and a half into a treadmill run, barely a warmup for her regime, but she could tell her head wasn’t in it. Her thoughts were far away, drifting off to Catra.

That night played over in her head constantly. Things she could have said differently or forgotten to ask, but the chance was gone now. Catra was gone now. For good. Not because of circumstance or life’s vicissitudes, but by choice. Catra didn’t want her around anymore. That was that.

Adora wasn’t angry. She felt no desire to rip into the punching bag like she had a few weeks ago. Catra was badly hurt and Adora knew all too well that she’d risk hurting her more by pushing back and not respecting her wishes. 

There was some solace in knowing Catra didn’t hate her. After Light Spinner’s, Adora was convinced Catra had grown to despise her, but clearly that wasn’t the case. Catra still had some love for Adora - or at least, acknowledged the love she used to have - even if Catra didn’t feel like continuing it. 

It still felt like gold trickling away through her fingers. Adora had wanted Catra back so badly and hadn’t gotten it. She could respect Catra’s choice but she couldn’t pretend it wasn’t another emotional blow in a rough, chaotic few weeks. 

Maybe that’s why working out was a good release. Some control, some direction. A feeling that she was preparing herself for whatever difficulties were about to come. Of course, no amount of training could fix this.

That thought tired her out more than the running did. She slowed down gradually and hopped off the treadmill, not even close to her limit. A change of activity might help refocus her. She eyed the strength training equipment and decided it was better than cardio.

Adora took a drink and inspected the gym-goers. This time of day meant a new crowd, and it was hard to tell who was a regular and who, like her, was here out of the ordinary to fill some time. 

Life, however, didn’t like Adora every day. It got kinder over the years but it still had its days where it threw a curveball at her, just to keep her on her toes. That curveball walked in through the door with a happy smile on her face as she beelined for the weights.

_ Scorpia. _

The gym was too small to run. She’d be more likely to draw attention that way than lose it. Adora turned her back to the approaching woman and fumbled for the nearest machine she could find. Rowing? Sure. Whatever. The best she could hope to do was look busy hope that Scorpia didn’t—

“Hey there!” Scorpia said happily, appearing just in her peripheral vision.. “You using that right now? I was just … oh.”

_ Great blending in, Adora.  _

“Oh, hi.” Adora did a poor job of acting surprised. “I mean, yeah, if you want to use it. Go ahead.”

Adora stepped back from the machine. Scorpia didn’t move towards it. They stared awkwardly for a few moments. It was strange for two women so physically strong to be reduced to nerves so easily.

“Oh, hi, Adora. I’ve never seen you here before,” Scorpia tried.

Adora scratched the back of her neck, uncomfortable. “Uh, yeah, I’m not usually here at this time. I do weekend mornings or weekday evenings usually.” 

“Cool, cool.” Scorpia leaned against the wall, trying to look casual. It was a bit of a relief to see that Scorpia wasn’t any smoother in this than she was. Silence hung again. “Listen,” she glanced down at her feet, “I am really sorry about last weekend. I know it’s complicated with you and Catra and I’m sorry it had to happen like that.”

Adora shrugged with resignation. “It’s over now. I guess I’ll have to learn to be okay with it.”

The face Scorpia pulled was sympathetic and friendly in a way no simple stranger’s expression should be. Adora had guessed Scorpia was nice from the apology the other day, but this was only proving the point. “I tried telling Catra to talk things out with you but I can’t make her do what she isn’t prepared for.” 

Adora blinked. “Oh, we did talk a few days ago.”

Scorpia perked up. “Really, she did? That’s great! She didn’t mention it.”

She knew she shouldn’t have said it as soon as the words were gone. It had been a couple days so if Catra wanted Scorpia to know then Catra would have told her by now. Adora just blurted out something that Catra clearly didn’t want anyone knowing about. Hopefully Scorpia could keep a secret. 

Adora cringed in at herself. “I guess Catra isn’t much of a ‘talking about things’ person.”

Scorpia laughed lightly. “Boy, you can say that again. So you still talking?”

Her eyes darted to the ground. “Uh, no, actually.”

“Oh no! You didn’t have another fight did you?”

“No nothing like that. We just…” Adora shrugged. “We talked things out, got some explanations, and that’s it. Catra didn’t want to be friends again so it’s done.”

Saying it aloud struck something in her. She felt the tears before they came and decided excusing herself was better than crying in front of Scorpia. “Sorry, I need to…” She trailed off in a sniffle, pointing towards the changing rooms.

“Hey, wait a second.” Scorpia caught her by the arm. “Look, I don’t claim to understand Catra as well as you and I know it’s not the same as having her but… we’ll look after her, alright? Until she decides she wants you back in her life, we’ll be there. Me, Entrapta, Perfuma - we care about her.”

Adora brushed a few tears away. Scorpia was right, it wasn’t the same as doing it herself, but knowing that Catra had people there was comforting.

“I know you will.” Adora sighed and sat down on the floor. She didn’t care anymore if anyone saw her crying. “I just… wish I could do it. I used to be there for her and it meant so much to have that, but now I just feel so helpless. It’s not just that I can’t help her, but she doesn’t  _ want  _ me to help her anymore.”

Scorpia sat down in front of her, back against the wall. “It’s really sweet that you care so much. You’ve still got all the love you had from back then. That takes a lot of heart.”

Catra had some of that love too. Or something like it. Whatever it was, Adora knew her Catra was still in there.

Her head fell into her hands. “I just wish there was something I could do. I feel so closed out and helpless.” 

“You can’t force anyone to take help they don’t want - especially not Catra. All we can do is support her and be there for her when she’s ready to take the steps to get better.”

“If she takes the steps to get better.”

Scorpia looked up and caught her eyes. “Hey, do you believe in Catra?”

Adora wiped her eyes. “Of course I do.”

“Then we gotta believe she’ll figure out how to let us in, no matter how long it takes. When she does, she’s gonna have a lot more people giving her a hand than she realises.”

Adora could only hope that Catra would make that choice to be better. How much longer would it take for her to face that realisation? Hopefully not long. Adora couldn’t bear the thought of it dragging on.

But Scorpia was right: this was out of Adora’s hands. This was Catra’s struggle and it wasn’t going to end until Catra was ready for it to. That meant waiting, no matter how hard it was. At least she wasn’t waiting alone.

“You’re an amazing friend, Scorpia,” Adora said, wiping the last few tears from her cheek. “Catra’s really lucky to have you.”

Scorpia beamed from ear to ear. “Gee, thanks. And Catra’s lucky to have you, even if she doesn’t want you around right now.”

Then Scorpia got up to her knees and drew Adora in a big, warm hug. Adora didn’t make a habit of hugging people she didn’t know, but honestly, a few minutes conversation with Scorpia had thrown the woman right near the top of Adora’s favourite people list. Besides, if Catra trusted her, Adora could too. Plus the hug was great.

“Take care of yourself, okay?” Scorpia told her as they pulled apart.

“I will. You too. And Catra.”

Scorpia smiled. “I promise.”

Adora excused herself. She didn’t feel  _ good  _ about the things with Catra, but she did feel  _ better _ . A big problem with her anxiety had always been the loss of control. The fear that she couldn’t help Razz or, obviously, Catra, had probably lurked behind many of the issues Adora had. She’d gotten better at letting go over the years but it wasn’t natural for her and it probably never would be. 

Scorpia’s words did a lot to ease her mind though. Adora might not be able to do much right now, so she had to trust Catra. It was much easier for her to when she put it like that.  _ Trust Catra. _

She wasn’t smiling by the time she was showered, dressed, and out of the gym, but she was calmer. A text was waiting for her from Bow, already on his way back from BMU.

_ Bow: Hey, we’re hitting up Plumeria. You still at the gym? We can pick you up on the way. _

Adora smiled. All the talk of Catra needing to be ready to embrace her friends had a way of reminding Adora of her own.

_ Adora: You bet! I need a kick after that session :/ _

* * *

A few days in and Catra’s new job was going about as well as she could have asked. It wasn’t a life-changing adventure, but it paid well and it wasn’t insufferable. The occasional bastard customer was to be expected but most just came and went. 

And her colleagues? Obviously Perfuma was patient and helpful when she was around, and even the other staff didn’t grate on her. Her colleagues had figured out pretty quickly that she wasn’t there to make friends so they gave her space without her needing to ask. The worst she had to deal with was a bit of unwanted small talk here and there. 

Compared to Target’s combination of dickhead customers, maddening monotony, and good ole’  _ Derek _ , Plumeria stood head and shoulders above it.

But something was still wrong. Catra was still committed to finding out what was wrong with it.

She was starting to think it was the coffee machine.

“Stupid piece of shit.” She whacked it with her palm, a bit harder than she saw others do it. There weren’t any customers this minute but they’d start trickling in soon enough. They needed this stupid machine to work by then. “Ugh,” Catra pressed every button and not a single light lit up. The thing was dead. “Seriously? I’m going to kill you, inanimate little bitch.”

Her front of house colleague - the same fresh-faced teen straight out of school that’d been there her first day - awkwardly slipped into the back to ‘“fetch” something. Apparently Catra was still giving off enough of an angry vibe to scare some people away. 

“Catra? Sweetie?” Perfuma poked her head from around the back. She worked every weekday so all of Catra’s shifts had been alongside her so far. “Is everything alright?”

“No,” she grumbled. “Stupid machine is broken.”

“Oh?” Perfuma rushed over and looked for herself. “Well, there’s your problem.”

Catra arched an eyebrow. “Huh?”

The woman reached behind the machine and flicked a switch. The machine’s lights blinked to life.

“It’d help if you plugged it in,” Perfuma chimed with a smile.

_ Right. Of course.  _ They’d unplugged it to clean up a spillage earlier and Catra just hadn’t thought to check.  _ Stupid. _

Catra sighed and pressed her fingers to her temple. “Right. Great. Thanks, Perfuma. I was going to slam my head into the counter if it didn’t work.”

Perfuma pulled that same face Scorpia did when she made those jokes. “Come back here for a sec,” Perfuma said, motioning Catra to follow her into the back. 

Catra didn’t complain and followed. Perfuma led her to the break room, turned, and looked Catra in the eye.

“Breathe.”

Catra blinked. “Uh, what?”

“Breathe in.” Perfuma did so as she spoke. “And out.”

“Perfuma, what is this?”

“A breathing exercise. It helps with stress.”

Catra wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Perfuma puffed out another breath. “Sweetie, you’ve been stressing out these last few days, you need to relax. You’re doing great, Catra, really. You’ve got nothing to be stressed about and sometimes you being stressed is the only thing causing any problems.”

Catra waved dismissively. “I said it’s fine, Perfuma. It’s okay to be stressed out sometimes, you know.”

“Sometimes,” Perfuma pointed out. “But you’re carrying a lot of tension all the time. It’s affecting your aura and your focus.”

A ring from the door was her saving grace.

Catra leapt at the noise. “Oh damn, a customer. I better go.”

“ _ Catra _ ,” Perfuma scolded with her hands on her hips. “Remember your stress.”

_ As if I can forget it.  _ “Right. Breathe. Whatever.”

Anything was better than being forced into an impromptu Perfuma therapy session. Customers were a relief. Catra stepped outside and found three familiar customers waiting across the counter.

_ Fuck. _

“Uh... hey, Adora.” 

* * *

Adora froze up. That was Catra. In a Plumeria uniform. Right in front of her.

The conversation with Glimmer and Bow dropped off in an instant. Catra’s mismatched eyes glanced nervously to the two of them before flicking back to Adora.

What should she do? It had barely been a week and they were  _ supposed  _ to have gone their separate ways. Now she was here, in a Plumeria uniform too, with one of those pink hats barely containing her wild brown hair. It was… cute. But weird. Very weird.

“Oh hey,” Adora answered awkwardly. “S-since when do you work here?”

“A couple days.” Catra tapped her hands on the counter nervously. “Uh, you come here often?”

“Sometimes, yeah. Often-ish.”

Catra looked okay. Not happy, a bit tired maybe, but she looked okay. She didn’t seem angry that Adora had stumbled into her at work, but then again Adora didn’t expect her to be angry about that after their conversation. She was definitely as uncomfortable as Adora was, which honestly hurt. Adora hated the distance between them now, the gulf that existed where there’d once been nothing but understanding. . 

“So, what do you want?” Catra obviously focused on the register to avoid looking at her. 

“Uh, matcha latte, please.”

Catra broke into a tiny smile. She could just imagine Catra making fun of her for such a niche choice. “Stay or to go?”

Adora couldn’t help but smile at her, watching Catra suppress a smirk at the register. “Stay,” she breathed quietly. She hadn’t meant to say that aloud. “I mean, uh, go. To go. Definitely to go.”

A quizzical glance was all Adora got from Catra. Bow ordered for himself and Glimmer - a wise choice to make sure Glimmer and Catra didn’t have to talk - and Catra set about filling the order. The girl was pointedly and noticeably  _ not  _ looking their way at all as she made the drinks.

At least Catra didn’t notice the daggers Glimmer was staring at her the whole time. Adora had to whack her friend on the shoulder and mouth at her to cut it out.

It was cute, the way Catra wrinkled her nose and cursed under her breath at the machines. It reminded Adora of Catra getting annoyed at the brambles around the back of Horde that they’d always get into trouble for sneaking through. Well, Catra got in trouble. Adora didn’t really. They kept doing it though, just to get at the only part of the garden that Weaver couldn’t watch from her window. 

“So you didn’t know about this?” Bow whispered to her.

“If I did, I wouldn’t have come.” Not that Adora wouldn’t have wanted to come if she knew, quite the opposite. But she needed to respect Catra’s decision.

A few minutes later and three drinks were waiting on the counter. Bow took his own and handed Glimmer’s to her. She looked at it skeptically.

Catra notice. “Don’t worry, Glitter, I didn’t poison it.”

Glimmer looked up and that furious stare from their last encounter was back. “Really. Colour me surprised.”

“That one’s mine then!” Adora quickly inserted herself between them. “Great, how much?”

Catra’s playful smirk faded. “Oh”, she cleared her throat, “six twenty.”

It was Adora’s turn to pay so she handed a few notes to Catra, taking effort not to let herself brush their hands together. She got her change and then she didn’t know what to do.

Their eyes met for a single treacherous moment that made them both instantly look away.

Catra cleared her throat again and didn’t look up. “Thanks. Uh, have a good day.”

_ Right. Strangers.  _ That’s what they were supposed to be now. That’s what Catra wanted them to be.

“Yeah, yeah.” Adora took a reluctant step back. “Thanks. See you around?”

Catra gave a non-committal grunt and distracted herself with something behind the counter. It was easy to tell Catra was purely trying to avoid focusing on Adora. 

It twisted something deep inside to see her former friend like that, trying so hard to look like she wanted nothing to do with Adora. It at least reminded her that she wasn’t supposed to be around Catra anymore. It was enough to force her out the door with Bow and Glimmer silently following.

Trudging back across the parking lot, Adora fought the urge to glance back over her shoulder. She only slipped up once or twice, she was sure. She never did catch a glimpse of Catra again.

“Plumeria is off-limits, huh?” Glimmer asked as they got into the car.

Adora sighed. “No? I mean, yeah, for me I guess. It’s probably best if I don’t show up there again.”

She felt deflated. It sucked to feel like she had to avoid Catra like a plague, but how else was she supposed to do this? Every second around Catra reminded Adora of what she’d lost. It’s what she imagined a break-up might feel like, losing someone so central to your life but still knowing they were out there and living a life they didn’t want you to be a part of anymore.

Adora stared down at her drink. It was a stupid way to think but this drink was the first thing Catra had given her in years. Her weird green coffee that wasn’t really coffee that was just pretentious enough an order to make Catra smile. That thought made her smile too.

“She promised she didn’t poison it,” Bow said.

“It’s not that.” She looked back toward Plumeria but couldn’t see Catra inside. “This sucks.” If that wasn’t the understatement of the century.

“The Catra stuff?” Despite her obvious reservations, Glimmer could still be sympathetic. “You said yourself, there’s nothing more you can do.”

“I know.” Scorpia had reminded her of the same thing earlier in the day. It was still hard to accept. “I just feel thrown about, you know? In a few weeks I’ve gone from not seeing her in years, to visiting Horde, to the… encounter at the club, then to that whole conversation about what happened, and now I’m just supposed to walk away? I want to respect her wishes and I will, but it’s hard. It’s really hard.”

“Just because you’re doing the right thing by giving her space, doesn’t mean it’s wrong to be hurt about it.” Bow turned to look at her, reaching over to hold her hand. “Sometimes life doesn’t give us nice options. I know you’ll do whatever’s best for her, you’re that kinda friend, but don’t be afraid to admit that it’s not what you wanted. It’s okay to hurt.”

“There’s not much we can do to change things for you and Catra,” Glimmer joined in, “I wish there was, but there’s not. We can listen to you though and try to cheer you up.”

“And pick up things from Plumeria for you if you don’t feel right going,” Bow added.

Glimmer nodded. “Right. Don’t be afraid to let us in, okay? Friends are there for each other when they need them.”

It was the same observation Scorpia and Adora had made on Catra. Yeah, it hurt to not have Catra, but Adora had to respect that Catra needed to be ready to let others in before things could change - if that ever changed. It was okay for that to hurt. Catra was her friend once and Adora didn’t love her any less. She never would. Learning to be okay though? That was something Adora had learned before and could again. It’d take time and effort and support, but it could be done. She had to believe that, for her and Catra both.

Adora took a sip of her drink. Warm, familiar, her favourite. Respecting Catra, doing what’s best for her old friend, had to mean putting some distance between her favourite familiar warmth for a time. 

* * *

As soon as Adora left, Catra marched to the back of the shop with a steely, unhappy glare ready for Perfuma. She’d not noticed who had walked in.

“Catra? Can I help?”

“Were you going to tell me that Adora comes here?”

Perfuma’s face dropped. So, she was regular enough for Perfuma to know her. “I’m sorry, I never thought about that. I… I can rearrange your shifts if you’d like? Adora’s usually here this sort of time so I can make sure you’re not here.”

Would she like that? The sensible thing would be to avoid Adora at all costs. Every encounter was still a risk of Catra being stupid and setting herself up for failure again. She really  _ should  _ make the arrangements to make sure they didn’t run into each other again.

She huffed air through her nose, taking some of her immediate anger with it. “Whatever. Could have just warned me.”

Before Perfuma could respond, Catra turned tail and went out the front again. It was a strange relief to have other customers waiting now. The mindless, repetitive work was a better distraction.

Adora was obviously glad to see her. The girl had done a bad job of hiding her staring as Catra worked and had glanced back like six times as she crossed the parking lot. Not unexpected, since Adora hadn’t wanted to go their separate ways, but still… odd. 

Again, she was struck by how little anger she had towards Adora. It was amazing how quickly Adora could open Catra’s eyes to see that she wasn’t being reasonable and was trying to hate for its own sake. Stressing out, creating problems for herself where there didn’t need to be any. 

It had all been going so well too. Aside from the stress thing, but that was just Perfuma being Perfuma. She read into things with her spiritual-emotional-healing crap. 

Then Adora had to just show up out of the blue and… well, actually it was fine. Adora showed up, respected her boundaries, and then left. She even made Catra smile too.

The plan was that they weren’t supposed to see each other again, though. Catra had been clear with herself that too much Adora was a risk she couldn’t take. She knew nothing good ever lasted. 

She was so lost in thoughts of Adora that she barely noticed the end of her shift approaching. Her alarm snapped her out of a daze just in time to see another person coming into the store. Catra was about to turn them away until they walked in.

“Hey, wildcat. How was your day?”

“Scorpia?” Catra squinted as Scorpia made her away behind the counter. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m picking up Perfuma. We’re going away this weekend, remember?” 

Oh yeah, Scorpia had mentioned. Perfuma’s family wanted to meet her so they were heading out for a couple of days, leaving Catra alone with the house. Similar nights alone had happened a few times before and Catra remembered looking forward to them with glee. Peace, quiet, freedom from oversight. How had she forgotten about it this time around?

Perfuma appeared from the back and embraced Scorpia. “Hey, honey.” Catra turned away. She didn’t need to see them be all affectionate. “How was your day? Was the gym okay?”

“Oh, pfft, yeah. It was fine!” Scorpia had that damn tone she always did when hiding something. Her eyes flitted to Catra for a moment. “Nothing happened, really. Just gym stuff.”

Catra looked her up and down. Just what was Scorpia hiding? Did she even want to know? No, not really. Besides, prodding Scorpia would only tell her that she could prod right back at Catra, which she didn’t want.

The meeting with Adora was a nicely kept secret. Entrapta promised she wouldn’t utter a word about it to anyone, especially not Scorpia. Catra knew the woman would just want to get involved and risk making Catra reconsider her choices; far safer to leave it be.

“You’re heading straight out from here?” Catra asked, steering the conversation somewhere safer.

“Yeah, we packed all our stuff earlier. It’s only a few hours away so hopefully we can get to Perfuma’s parents’ place before it’s too late.”

Catra quickly finished up the last of the cleaning and grabbed her things. Perfuma met them at the door to lock up before grabbing Scorpia’s arm with a smile.

“I’m so excited,” the blonde girl beamed. “It’ll be so good to have you meet the family.”

How could someone be so bright all the time? The two of them were bundles of ceaseless joy that seemed to see the world like it was covered in sugar and roses. It was so bizarre.

She pointedly didn’t dwell on the last word:  _ family _ . Catra’a didn’t have a family. Even if she did, she didn’t have anyone to rush off and introduce them to. It was just her and whatever friends she hadn’t pushed away yet. 

Those friends were… okay though. Scorpio, Entrapta, Perfuma - they were good. They weren’t the best friends like she’d seen in films or books though. Catra didn’t live and breathe them the way some friendships were like.  _ Not like she’d done with Adora.  _

“You going to be alright until I get back?” Scorpia asked.

“Pfft, yeah. I won’t burn the house down. Got it.”

“Appreciated.” Scorpia grabbed her in a hug before she could dodge it.

Then the two lovebirds said their goodbyes, hopped in the car, and drove away. They were smiling and laughing the moment they were alone together, clearly excited for their little adventure. The way Scorpia watched adoringly as Perfuma spoke and how Perfuma let her head droop so naturally and lazily on Scorpia’s shoulder. It was… sweet? Wait, was Catra smiling?

Shaking away her thoughts, Catra made for her own car. 

The journey home was quiet. Unusually quiet. Habit had gotten her accustomed to bringing Scorpia home from work back in Target, so it was a bit weird to drive home alone. Knowing that the house would be quiet had never bothered her before. Yet when she finally got back twenty minutes later, the drawn curtains and empty driveway seemed almost eerie. Cold.

The house was empty. She’d been home plenty of times without anyone else, but there was something different this time. Something was missing that had been there before. Or had something been missing before and now it was back? Why did it make being home alone different?

She felt pain in her folded arms as she closed the front door.. She looked down and found her nails digging into the skin, drawing tiny streaks of blood.  _ Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. _

God, why was she so fucking tense? What was wrong? 

Catra ran through a checklist in her head.   
  
Work? No, work was fine. She’d gotten a job, despite everything, and it was fine.

Living arrangements? Those fears of being kicked out were long gone. Catra had the money to pay rent now, and Scorpia was clearly not thinking of dropping her yet. Maybe ever.

Friends? Closer than ever. Scorpia was stil herself, Entrapta had opened up a bit, and Perfuma was proving to be something more than just peripheral. 

Adora? A mess, but it was never going to be anything less. The anger was gone though. Catra had her answers and now she had her space. Yeah, today was an anomaly, but Adora would know to stay away now and that would be that.

Catra couldn’t wrap her head around it then.  _ Nothing had gone wrong.  _ All the things she’d spent the last few weeks worrying about had fizzled out without a disaster. 

The realisation dawned: that’s what was wrong. 

Where was the disaster? Where was the storm? Where was the upheaval that tore down everything Catra had and put her back to square one. It had happened with her parents, then when Adora left, with all five families, with Lonnie, with Double Trouble, and now… nothing.  _ Yet. _

That was what she was waiting for. The catch. The drag back down to reality. The bitter twist just when things seemed to be going sort of okay. 

Her heart skipped. Alert. She’d be ready when things went wrong. She wasn’t weak anymore, not stupid enough to let her guard down and let herself think this would last. There’d be a fuck-up somewhere and she was  _ so damn tired _ of letting these things sneak up on her.

So she couldn’t relax. She couldn’t bask in the strengthened friendships, the new job, or the answers from Adora. There was no safety, only the wait for the next agony.

Catra locked the front door. It was a thin illusion of safety. A familiar one, well taught.

* * *

_ “Lock. The. Door.” _

_ Catra froze. Hordak rarely said anything when she came back. He never asked why she was out so late; he barely even glanced from that stupid spot of his by the window. _

_ She looked between him and the door, feeling bold. “Why?” _

_ Hordak turned his head. “Lock it.” _

_ Catra folded her arms. She was tired of this guy never answering her damn questions. “Why do you get so picky about locking a stupid door?” _

_ Hordak rose with a cry. He bolted towards her and she cowered. She braced herself for the hurt, the screaming, the violence.  _

_ Somehow, it didn’t come. Hordak slammed his hand against the door and locked it, breathing heavily and furiously. When he looked at her there was a cold rage in him that she’d never seen before. _

_ “I don’t ask much from you, girl. I tell you to lock the door and you lock it.” _

_ Catra nodded meekly. Suddenly she felt a lot less like the crude, no-shits-given 15 year old she was outside. “Yes, sir.” _

_ That seemed to amuse him. “Good,” he said with the closest thing to a smile he could muster. He lurked back to his chair with a huff. “Safety.” _

_ She looked up. “Safety?” _

_ “That’s why the door is locked.” _

_ “You’re home. Aren’t you safe here?” _

_ Hordak laughed. “Advice, girl: you are never safe. No one is ever safe. Everything you have can and will be taken from you. You can let that happen…” he looked over at her, “or you be ready for whatever comes to take it away.” _

_ The way he glared at her, the purpose behind those cold, lifeless eyes, spoke of something else. They held the answer she’d wanted since the first day. _

_ “Why did you take me in?” she dared to ask. “I mean, you don’t want a kid.” _

_ “I do not.” _

_ She stepped a bit closer. “You don’t want some sort of fucking protege for… whatever you do.” _

_ “No, but I could do much worse for a protege than you. You’ve got a fire to you. Cut away the naivety, harden your resolve, and you could be something.” _

_ “But that’s not why you took me in, is it?” She watched him shake his head. “So why?” _

_ Hordak ran his tongue around his mouth, a smile tugging at his lips. What the fuck was this guy’s deal? A minute later, he barely turned his head as he answered. _

_ “Safety.” _

_ Catra looked back to the door. What kind of answer was that? _

_ “Go,” Hordak ordered, “I’m done talking.” _

_ She knew better now that to question him too much. Without a complaint she grabbed some food from the kitchen before shutting herself away in her room. _

_ What was Hordak’s deal? What did he mean by safety? He clearly didn’t mean her safety. His? The fuck was Catra supposed to do? She wasn’t going to protect him. _

_ She stared through the window of her dingy little room, out onto the street. A single car idled across the road but drove off after a few seconds. Weird people hung around this neighbourhood. _

_ Still, the thought unsettled her. Life here wasn’t good but it was better than Weaver’s, wasn’t it? Shouldn’t she enjoy this while she could? _

_ But Hordak was right. Things were never safe. This was going to be ruined someday. Shouldn’t she know that by now?  _

* * *

She let out a shaking breath. Hordak was many things, none of them good, but sometimes his advice had served her well. For all the good it had done him in the end, anyway.

_ Never safe. Everything will be taken. Prepare yourself. _ They were two pieces of advice that fit so perfectly with her other mantras: no one cares, and everyone leaves.

She groaned, pressing her fingers into her temples. None of this was right. She could handle things going, but the waiting that came first was insufferable. 

That had been the reason for everything, hadn’t it? She drank because it spared her the fear of losing everything again, if only for a few hours. She kept everyone at arm’s length so the knife in the back couldn’t go too deep. She didn’t hope for anything good, didn’t let herself believe in anything good, because it would always let her down. 

After all these years, even though she’d slipped a few times with Adora, she’d finally learned not to be complacent. She couldn’t risk enjoying anything about her life or letting herself believe she’d be able to keep any of it.

Arming herself with a drink, she pulled a chair to the front window of the living room and waited. Maybe she was starting to understand what Hordak meant about that stupid sitting place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I didn’t commit to a schedule or anything but I still feel like I was ‘late’ with this. A lot going on and I’ve not had the time or energy as often as I’d like. I’m not going anywhere though. I’m really excited to get to the next two chapters and change things up.
> 
> Also this Hordak stuff is starting to stray towards the melodramatic, but I have no shame. No apologies here.


End file.
